


Angel Hair

by Smokeybluebrookelyn107



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Artificial Insemination, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canon-Typical Violence, Experimentation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, HYDRA are assholes, How Do I Tag, Hydra (Marvel), Implied past torture, Imprisonment, M/M, Mpreg, Not Canon Compliant, Omega Reader, Other, Pregnant Reader, Protective Bucky Barnes, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, The Asset - Freeform, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, True Mates, angst with crack fic undertones, could read it as, daddy bucky barnes, entirely up to you, gender neutral reader, hydra trying to make super soldiers, if you want your reader to be a guy, mentions of past character death, non consensual artificial insemination, not sure how i managed that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:49:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 66,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smokeybluebrookelyn107/pseuds/Smokeybluebrookelyn107
Summary: When The Asset scents an omega that smells like him in an underground Hydra base, he's not sure what to make of it but he's determined to find out.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 286
Kudos: 484





	1. Chapter 1

The Asset strode towards his quarters - barely more than a concrete box with a mat for a bed - after a long day of “reacclimating” to the thawed out world. He had been out of cryo for a couple of days, just long enough for his handlers to assess that their greatest weapon’s reflexes and programming were unaffected by his time in the ice.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been and he had no reason to ask. It was irrelevant to his mission, whatever it was that they had seen fit to wake him for.

A couple of doctors - both betas, one male and one female - in white lab coats and with stethoscopes around their necks were wheeling a trolley of standard medical equipment in the opposite direction. Thermometer, blood pressure machine and blood sugar monitor were the most obvious, perhaps routine tests on one of Hydra’s many experiments.

Something in his solar plexus contracted at the thought of those experiments. He wasn’t sure why. Adding that to the list of irrelevancies, he contained the rogue physical reaction and continued down the corridor.

The two doctors were talking animatedly, taking only enough notice of The Winter Soldier as they had to in order to stay out of his way once they caught his scent.

That was to be expected.

When their scents hit him, his vibranium hand reached out of its own accord, clamped around the male beta’s neck and lifted him off his feet.

That was not.

The doctor looked at him in terror, choking and kicking in place as The Asset observed him carefully.

The beta's scent mixed with another. It reeked of omega; rich, ripe and maddening with hints of sugar, fresh-cut grass and... _him_.

It took The Asset mere seconds to ascertain that the omega scent clung to clothes rather than skin, a hallmark of periods in close proximity rather than cloying, intimate contact. For some reason that he couldn’t pinpoint, the realisation caused his grip to loosen just a little.

The next thing that he was conscious of was the guards surrounding them, rifles trained on him from as safe a distance as it was possible to get in the long, narrow space. Forcing the unfamiliar sensation of what he could only define as a “feeling” back down into the depths of his body, he released the wheezing beta back onto his feet. The doctor didn't seem to realise that he was actually free before his associate pulled both him and the trolley away.

The guards remained in position for a while longer, some shaking visibly as they tried to anticipate any coming assault.

The Asset pulled his outstretched hand back and scrutinised the movements of his flexing fingers which, now appeared to be behaving as they should. Still, such a public incident would end in either a trip to the technicians or his handlers and he reasoned that the former was preferable.

The nearest guard jumped, gripping his rifle more than a little tighter as The Asset looked up and addressed him.

‘Technicians.’ 

The man nodded up the corridor, the whole unit backing up against the wall to let him through as he immediately headed in the indicated direction.

The scent got stronger the closer he came to a junction of identical windowless hallways. It filled his nose, the now bolder, sugary scent making him want to attribute to it the alien words of _cotton candy_ and _angel hair_. He could practically see it wisp and roll down the hallway to his right as it infiltrated the oxygen particles that the ventilation systems pumped into the extensive underground bunker.

It dragged that “feeling” back up to the surface as he halted in the centre of the colliding corridors. He was surprised by how difficult, how near impossible it was to hold back from throwing himself full-tilt into it and tearing off every door in his way until he found it’s source.

That puzzled him.

It wasn’t as though this was the only omega scent in the near vicinity. Even the ghost of an alpha, trained and medicated to suppress every biological instinct, even his ruts could smell an omega a mile away. Yet, this was...different. This was like facing off an enemy intent not on victory but on possession and The Asset was lost for any concept that could explain the urge to fall to it rather than fight it. He may have considered that his necessary suppressants were wearing off or insufficient, however, since he had been given the last of the battery of shots with the express purpose of subverting his body’s rutting instincts only hours before, it made no logical or biological sense.

The Asset may have had no memory or inclination of what a rut felt like but he somehow knew in his bones that this wasn’t it. This was something that urged his caution as much as it urged his action, something that demanded an attention other than destruction, something that he didn’t have a word for but perhaps may find upon further investigation.

He would follow it, The Asset decided.

He would follow the fresh-cut grass, the angel hair and the incomprehensible imprint of himself and the promise once made was the only thing to convince his feet to travel in any conflicting direction. Doing what he did best seemed the only credible way to proceed; silently, covertly like the ghost he was before anyone knew he was there.

The technician’s workshop was his next stop. Then his mission began.


	2. Chapter 2

It was twelve agonising hours before his opportunity arose. 

His tac suit - high collared and specifically designed to ensure that how much his scent escaped and lingered was negligible at best - had been delivered to him twenty minutes before, indicating that the commencement of his Hydra assigned mission was imminent. 

If he wanted to move on his acquired target then he had to move now. 

The guards were not difficult to circumvent, fierce loyalty driving them to keep to their appointed schedules to the second. The nature of the human circadian rhythm, however, was taking its toll. Without the visible rise and fall of the sun to manipulate their bodies, they were clearly sluggish and more easily distracted than was optimal. The Asset had no such problem and quickly came to the conclusion that the guards patrolling the underground base would be decimated should anyone like himself ever emerge from the enemy’s ranks. 

He headed in the direction of the armoury, the most plausible route for him to be taking should anyone have the cause or the courage to question him. At about halfway, he vanished into a nearby room just as the surveillance camera turned to bare its blind spot. Once inside, he pulled the iron grill that covered the air vent from the wall with silent efficiency. The amount of oxygen required to fill the base ensured ventilation shafts large enough for a grown man to squeeze inside and he would use this necessary flaw to his advantage. 

Burned sugar with the mildest undertones of dewy grass touched his nose and made his skin prickle like sparked gunpowder. The source of the scent was by no means close but it would be easier to follow undetected from inside the vents than had he succumbed to his earlier instincts. 

Trailing the scent like a prowling wolf through the steel tunnels afforded The Asset more privacy than he knew what to do with. The temptation to investigate The Feeling that had germinated in his chest as he had stood at that crossroads in the corridors only grew stronger the further he ventured. However, the unusual inclination to err towards caution outgrew it a thousand fold. There was no guarantee that he wouldn’t run into guards, handlers, doctors. He couldn’t afford to be compromised when it mattered. And The Feeling, though impossible to quantify, was certain that it _would_ matter.

Once again, despite speaking countless languages to native-level fluency, The Asset found himself lacking the necessary linguistic programming to classify what the scent seemed to be demanding of him and how he could feel so driven to comply. The notion that it was a trap crossed his mind but the more that angel hair scent filled his senses, the more the in-his-bones conviction returned. 

Whatever lay on the other end of his mission was truth in its purest form and, though he couldn’t begin to comprehend how he could be party to such intelligence or what it could mean in practical terms, The Feeling only intensified at the idea of laying eyes upon it.

By the time he had followed his nose into an identical metal grill in an identical ventilation shaft, The Asset felt light-headed and restless, navigating his increasingly precarious self-control by the narrowest of margins. The impulse to rush into what could be an active situation with no recognisance to speak of may have driven him to claw through vibranium were his training and programming less thoroughly attended to. 

Trained to eliminate problems that came between him and his target, he clamped his hand over his nose and began breathing through his mouth. It alleviated what he could only define as his “symptoms” insofar as to render his cognitive capacities barely stable. However, it was just adequate enough to allow him to observe though the gaps in the grill without proceeding with extreme and inadvisable irrationality.

Small. 

Clean. 

Comfortable.

These were his first impressions of the room on the other side. 

Hydra was of the ideology that comfort and compliance never went hand in hand but this room boasted conveniences; a toilet, a sink, an armchair, a stack of books that even from a distance appeared to be of the reading rather than schooling variety. From the bubble of heat surrounding the opening before him, even the temperature control had been set to ambient luxury. Then in one concrete-walled corner was a bed. It had a thick, cushion-like mattress the like of which The Asset had never seen. The figure nestled atop it kicked their sheets off as they slept. With their back to him, he could make out little by way of confirmed intel with the grill obstructing his view and whereas his training dictated the use of surveillance tools to gain more information before proceeding, he was yet to be issued with those he required.

And with that passing assessment, his ability to contain his compulsions waned to erasure. 

Loosening the grill, he lowered himself down before setting it carefully on the floor. The Asset made no sound as he crept towards the bed with a tentativeness that was outside of his experienced of himself. However, this was not an uncertainty that prompted him to reach for his weapons but rather to lay them down in the presence of the being before him. 

That sentiment puzzled him to distraction.

He was The Fist of Hydra. The title left no doubt as to his purpose and formed the only justification for his existence. Approaching a sleeping target with quiet boots and no intention to kill had no place in his arsenal. And the closer he got to his target, the more sentient The Feeling became. 

The Asset felt his feet come to an abrupt halt at the edge of the bed. Before he could absorb what he was seeing, his throat strained and contracted as though being strangled by an unseen enemy, his eyes felt prickly and tense as though he had been staring down a scope for days and his flesh hand, thus far steady as a mountain in a hurricane, began to quake enough that were he called upon to take a shot his ability to do so would be undeniably compromised. 

Laying there before him, sleeping deeply if restlessly was a soft and incredibly swollen bellied omega. 

Lacking the functionality to contain himself, The Asset felt his padded knees hit the concrete floor. Resting his hands on the edge of the wrought iron bed frame, he tried to remind himself to breathe. However, that only pulled more of their intoxicating scent into his lungs and obstructed his cognitive processes all the more. 

It made no sense. 

The Asset’s anatomical knowledge may be specialised towards elimination but the facts of his mission were disjointed by the facts of biology. He studied the omega's unconsciously bared throat carefully, somehow half expecting what he saw to morph before his bewildered eyes.

It didn’t. 

They bore no tell-tale scar. 

An unmarked omega could not smell so strongly of an alpha that they had never met. 

A rutless alpha could not sire pups even if they had. 

In his perturbed state, The Feeling once again rose up within him beckoning him to surrender, to be assimilated by it and forged into a fist of a different sort. And the perplexed battle may have continued had the target not played their final, dreaming card.

‘Alpha?’ They murmured, reaching behind them and clumsily finding his flesh hand. 

The Feeling erupted, taking everything in its path with gentle efficiency until every wave of resistance was subsumed and overwritten. ‘Alpha,’ they said again, so pleadingly that it made his chest hurt and urged him closer with a tug on his sleeve. ‘Come to bed...or you’ll be...tired...tomorrow.’

Unable to do anything other than comply with the mumbled command, he found himself pulled onto the bed behind them as they snuggled into his warmth. 

And it was now that The Feeling chose to fully remove its mask and reveal itself to him.

The word, previously knowledge void of meaning, breathed its name into his veins until, with his nose drifting over the now calmed omega’s scent gland, he was satisfied to succumb.

_Contentment._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared for some fluffy, fluffy angst.

You jerked awake as the smell of alpha hit your nose.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ a voice, croaky as though emerging from it’s own sleep, whispered in your ear.

It was only then that you registered the heat and the solid frame of another body against your back. The alpha's scent, however impossibly faint, was all wood smoke and rainy New York streets. It enveloped you along with the sound of his voice, calming you in a way that didn’t make sense when you had an unbonded alpha all up in your space. Ordinarily your painstakingly honed sense of smell would leave you confident in your assessment that he bore you no malintent but with your skewed perspective on the concept of ordinary after months spent in this nutcase infested hellhole, you weren't about to take any chances.

You may have seen some weird shit in this place but waking up to being spooned by a near-enough-Nazi was on a whole new level, especially when you were knocked up with some other alpha’s pup. However unlikely though it may be, you couldn’t guarantee that Hydra hadn’t somehow managed to manipulate this alpha’s scent or perhaps how you perceived it through one of their experiments. Theoretically, the best way to control a potentially flighty omega - which you had every intention of being when the opportune moment rolled around - would be to introduce an alpha who's scent they found as comforting as they did compelling. It wasn’t the craziest idea that you had ever heard and either way you couldn’t afford to drop your guard. So, you readied yourself to elbow the guy clean in the gut if occasion called for it.

Scent swayed or not, knocked up or not, you were well versed in what Tony called the ways of kickass. If this alpha thought that you wouldn’t put up a fight then he wouldn’t be the first or last to learn that there was nothing in this world more dangerous than an omega protecting their pup. ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said more decisively than before. Maybe he had mindreading on his list of Hydra-given talents. More likely, you had been lulled by that heavenly scent into telegraphing your intentions.

_Fuck you, biology. Fuck you._

Your pup kicked inside your swollen belly as he spoke. The little bounce landed against his palm where it rested on your side and you could have sworn that you heard the guy straight up _gasp_.

‘Then why are you here?’ You asked, trying to sound as level as you could with your insides being used for soccer practice.

You heard him swallow behind you. Adrenaline coursed through your body as you waited for whatever was going to happen next.

‘I...I had to find you.’ It sounded almost like a shy and slightly confused confession murmured across a high school dance floor. ‘I needed to know.’

‘Know what?’ You prompted when it was clear that he wasn’t going to continue of his own volition.

He swallowed again, taking what seemed like a long time to find what turned out to be not so many words.

‘How do you smell like me?’

Your heart stopped in your chest.

‘Bucky?’ You cried almost at the top of your lungs.

Both of you froze as it echoed around the small room but after a whole long minute of held breaths and pre-emptively clenched fists, it seemed that no one was coming. With the coast clear you pushed yourself onto your back as quietly as you could, you’re head turning faster than the rest of your body could manage. The hand he placed on your arm to steady you as you rolled over to face him seemed more instinctive than conscious.

‘Bucky, you’re here! You're really here!’ You squealed on a whisper, palms smushing his cheeks.

‘Who the hell is Bucky?’ He asked, from between forcefully and comically puckered lips.

You hadn’t been there for the last “who the hell is Bucky?” incident but you had comforted Steve in the aftermath. That you were hearing those same words now had to mean they’d wiped him again.

Your hands loosened around his face and Bucky studied you carefully through your mental dialogue, scrutinising your features with the acuity of someone accustomed to memorizing them. ‘I don’t know you,’ he said.

That hurt.

He wasn't wrong, though. He really didn't know you.

‘Well, you threw me out of a window once. I guess that counts.’

He looked back at you twice as horrified as confused. ‘Yeah, maybe shouldn’t have led with that. Oh, there was that time...um...that one's definitely not going to be helpful, either. Let's just say it's complicated.' 

Deciding it was best to try and jog his memory gently, you proceeded carefully.

‘Long story short, I’m a friend of Steve’s,’ you said, watching the furrow in his brow deepen, ‘we’ve been looking for you for a couple of years, came to bust you out of an old Hydra base in Austria. Kind of backfired, though. Well, for me, anyway. Then they moved us to the ass end of Siberia and here we are. Can’t get word out for Steve and my friends to come and get us.’

You had never seen anyone look so completely mind-boggled.

That clearly wasn’t ringing any bells. ‘Oh, Steve gave me and Sam something to tell you if we got to you first!’

Wracking your memory for a several month old piece of information wasn’t the easiest thing, especially with full blown pup brain and a caffeine free diet. ‘Uh...I’m here for...nope, that’s not it. I’m with you ‘til...the end of the...um...world...? Buddy...?’

‘I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal,’ he said, almost like his lips were moving on muscle memory alone and the words didn’t fully connect but they were in there. With his face scrunched up in contemplative shock like that, the cogs were definitely turning.

Then his attention snapped back to you.

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he said, observing you with a cautiously soft look in his eyes that you shouldn’t be feeling your heart flutter over. ‘How do you smell like me?’

You couldn’t be sure if he really hadn’t put the pieces together or if he just needed to hear you say it. Did Hydra feel the need to include the birds and the bees in The Winter Soldier handbook?

‘Well, this is awkward,’ you began with a deep sigh. When in you’re sappiest omega moments you had imagined making such an announcement, this was not how it had all gone down in your head. ‘I’m kind of carrying your pup.’

The look on his face was a subtle picture in blindsided which, you imagined was a big deal for the stoic Winter Soldier.

‘How?’

‘Well, they want to make more of you, 'cus Hydra. And from what I've gathered while I've been here viable cloning is a little beyond their reach which, is hilarious. I know people who could do that in their sleep with a petri dish and a cup of noodles.’

He regarded you with that cautious gaze as though he wasn’t sure how seriously to take your statement.

‘You’re exaggerating,’ he finally concluded.

‘Believe it or not, only a little.'

Bucky was thinking again but this time he looked like he was about to have a panic attack or punch someone in the face, order to be determined.

‘What did they do?’ He asked, your heart beat going haywire and your pup kicking like crazy at the jaw clenched rumble in his voice. You knew what he was really asking before the faint but biting pissed off alpha pheromones reached you.

_Did they hurt you?_

Looking at him now, the truly honest answer to that could easily end in a homicidal rampage and while there was that omega bit of you that may just revel in him tearing the place up to avenge you, he would get himself captured, killed or both. 

Just the thought tore your heart in two.

Hoping to use biology to your advantage, you nestled into his neck and bore your own throat. Instinctively dipping his head, he inhaled deeply, his clenched jaw relaxing as he settled against you. His scent was stronger with your nose in the crook of his neck but still not by much. With the vague memory of Nat saying something about his suit masking his scent tickling on the edges of your brain, you found your hands moving of their own accord and pulling at the zip of his collar.

Bucky’s breath hitched as the zip clicked down through its own teeth until it hit the strap across his chest. He didn’t try to stop you just let a quietly rough purr bubble in his throat as you released more of his dizzying scent. You had never felt your whole body go so bonelessly calm before, never seen someone respond to you in the same way. Your heart beats synchronised, your breaths aligned and when and only when, you were convinced that he was suitably mollified did you answer the words that he had spoken rather than dare answer the ones that he hadn’t.

‘Artificial insemination.’

‘Artificial what?’ He asked, sounding a little scent drunk as he nuzzled your neck and ran his fingers tenderly over your side.

‘Figures that of all the technological advancements in the last century they’d only update you on the explody and or stabby ones. Basically, they took some stuff from you, some stuff from me, threw it all together, made a pup and then whacked it in here,’ you explained with a light pat on your calming stomach. It was a long moment while he took that in, his hand stretching thoughtfully over your bump. He pulled back and didn’t take his eyes off yours for a second as the silence drew out between you. ‘You do that starey thing a lot, don’t you?’

‘You’re so...calm,’ he responded. Maybe Hydra really didn’t do the whole birds and the bees thing. Then again, he was the assassin to end all assassins, you didn’t imagine he saw a whole lot of calm from other people.

You gave a little shrug, unconsciously angling closer to his scent gland and it’s anaesthetic-like effects. ‘You smell like... _safe_. I think we can blame Pupper for that one. She must know who you are.’

‘She?’

‘Well, I think she’s a she. Feels like a she. I know that sounds kind of crazy but...’

Bucky’s head jerked suddenly to the side like he had been punched in the face. His breathing shifted like he'd just run ten marathons, his flesh hand shaking uncontrollably.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you gently turned him to face you.

‘You okay?’

‘My Ma said that right before Becca was born,’ he said, sounding more breathless, less stilted and all Brooklyn.

‘Your sis -’

The question was barely out of your mouth before he was off the bed, up the wall and into the open vent, somehow managing to zip his collar back up and reattach the grill as he went.

In one soundless moment he was just...gone.

Your breath caught in your throat like you had been torn from a glorious, white picket fenced dream only to wake up in your worst nightmare. Pushing yourself up onto your feet, you waddled over to the wall below the vent. ‘Bucky?’ You whispered as loud as you dared, sounding increasingly forlorn the longer that you stood there. ‘Bucky?’

It was as though he had evaporated into thin air and taken his worked up Alpha scent with him. It was a good, if painful, party trick.

_Not again._

Hot tears burned in your eyes as his scent began to dissipate, snatching the sense of calm safety from beneath your feet. Waddling back towards the bed, you buried your head in the pillow where it lingered the strongest, crying and berating yourself until that too began to fade. 'Stupid, scent swayed omega!'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, running fast and loose with lore of all kinds in this one. Also went back and did a smidge of editing so that it is at least vaguely consistent up to this point - I hope you enjoy it.

_1 Year Ago - Bucharest._

‘Plums?’ Sam’s dubious voice rang through your ear piece. ‘Seriously?’

‘That’s what the intel says,’ you replied, allowing the growing wind tunnelling down the street to drown out your voice for any passers by. The area was pretty crowded but you had been well trained by Nat to blend in. You weren’t likely to arouse suspicion, however, this was the world’s most highly trained operative that you were dealing with. 

You couldn’t be too careful.

‘Yeah, well, let’s just hope we get to him before he bolts this time,’ Steve interjected and you all heard what he was really saying.

_Let’s just hope we get to him_ first _._

Aside from his recently acquired taste for plums, your intelligence had also suggested that you weren’t the only ones closing in on The ex-Winter Soldier. What was left of Hydra was still scrambling to reorganise after the helicarriers went down and their determination to reinstate Bucky Barnes to his old mantle was testament to the unifying figure that they believed him to be. 

The pages of the extensive files that you had read and re-read until you knew them by heart turned in your minds eye. What Hydra had done to that man was nothing short of evil. Even long before you had come to know Steve and his endless Grandpa-style stories of who Bucky was before he fell off that train, you had known that he was a good person who deserved better. A handful of trips to the Smithsonian when you were a kid had been more than enough to convince you of that. Now, after a year of utilising your skills as an expert tracker this had become as much of a personal mission as it had helping your former mentor find his best friend.

The more that you got inside Bucky’s head, the more recently abandoned, scent-scrubbed hovels that you arrived at just too late, the greater your determination to find him grew. 

Wasn’t that why you had joined S.H.I.E.L.D in the first place? To stop shit like that happening to people like him? 

Over the years, S.H.I.E.L.D had become your found family and not only had Hydra infiltrated and tore that family apart from the inside out but they had used that poor man to light the fuse. Not everyone had made it out that day and you had buried too many friends before joining Steve and Sam on their quest. Whether with earth or ice, you weren’t about to watch Steve bury the only family he had left. 

You _would_ find Bucky first and then Hydra would really pay for what they had done. 

‘Y/N, I can see you grinding your teeth from here, you know,’ Sam said, amusement lifting his deep voice. 

You glared out of the corner of your eye towards the building that he was perched on top of. At this distance you couldn’t see him but he would see you. 

‘Sammy, if I’d known you couldn’t keep your eyes off me, I would have slipped into something a lot less comfortable,’ you bantered back with a sly wink, covering well for your sudden self-consciousness over the increasingly regular habit. 

‘Awe but you look so cute in incognito mode,’ Sam seamlessly returned. 

You made a show of lifting your phone up in front of you and rearranging the woolly hat on your head. The blank screen provided the perfect view of the area behind you, allowing you to survey all potential entry points simultaneously without standing out. You swore that selfie culture had done more for surveillance that technology ever had.

‘Damn right I do.’

‘Guys, think we could focus?’ 

Under normal circumstances, Steve would just laugh or rolled his eyes at yours and the beta’s back and forth but the longer you went without finding Bucky, the more disheartened he became. Especially, when he was having to keep his distance more than usual in case your theory - that Bucky had repeatedly and literally smelled his best friend coming and made a break for it - was on the money. 

And your theories usually were.

‘Don’t worry, Cap, I can concentrate and verbally eviscerate Wilson at the same time.’ 

‘Good job, ‘cus I think I got eyes on him. He’s on...’

‘My twelve,’ you finished for him and pocketed your phone.

This wasn’t the first time that you had seen him in the flesh but it felt like it. Even with the memories of your brief run in with The Winter Soldier being hazy at best, it was clear that this man was a completely different person. His cap was low on his head, his brown jacket pulled up around his neck. He was considerably bulkier than before but it was undoubtedly him. If nothing else could have confirmed it for you then the glove covering his left hand as he sifted through the crate of plums did.

‘Ready to move,’ Sam said, ‘just give me the word.’ 

You couldn’t help yourself but stand there for a moment and just watch. This Bucky had an unassuming air about him as he talked to the woman who owned the stall with the tiniest hint of a smile playing over his lips. Something about it had your heart turning in your chest. The thought that perhaps this - technically - stranger was doing ok warmed you in a way that you hadn’t expected. 

While he was doing a good job of shrinking into himself, he didn’t seem overtly tense, wasn’t wearing hypervigilant soldier mode as obviously as you had thought he might. This wasn’t someone who had any idea that Hydra was coming for him and that realisation turned you blood cold. At least with him in your line of sight they had a harder job on their hands.

‘Sit tight for a minute,’ you said, ‘if you start circling around up there too soon it’ll just spook him and -’ 

Your breath cut off as two things happened in quick succession.

A gust of wind roared at your back and Bucky froze. 

His head snapped around in your direction, his gaze zoning in on yours. His wide blue eyes were riddled with a mix of fear and confliction that your tracker’s gut couldn’t make any sense of. It was a split-second, rabbit-in-the-headlights moment that felt like an eternity. Then he turned tail and started running like his very existence depended on it. ‘Shit!’

You immediately took off after him, dodging dropped plumbs and the crate that he had pulled off of the end of the stall in an attempt to slow you down. 'Bucky!' You called as loud as you could while running full tilt. 'Wait!'

'What happened?' Steve asked, his question muffled by the tell-tale rush of air that accompanied his super soldier sprint.

‘He made me!’

‘ _How_?’

He had a point, you were better at flying under the radar than him and Sam put together and with the hefty suppressants you were taking there was no way in hell that he should have been able to scent you at that distance even if he had known what he was sniffing for. 

‘An alpha hightailing it from an omega? Now I’ve seen everything,’ Sam added, characteristically unfazed. 

‘Just shut up and get in the damn air!’ The stress in your own tone surprised even you. You weren’t easily rattled but with Bucky shrinking as he raced away from you, the anxiety clawing at your lungs only grew. 

‘Way ahead of your bossy ass,’ Sam replied as he zoomed over your head to the amazement of the random bystanders around you.

It might not help so much on a windy day like today but if you could get close enough to catch his scent just once then with your skillset you would be able to find him anywhere. However, he was good; thorough, meticulous and a real pro at covering his tracks. You had come to expect nothing less from him and you doubted that, even caught off guard, he was likely to slip up now.

_Damned super soldiers!_

‘On your left,’ Steve said, not even breathless in your ear piece. Following his direction and without breaking stride, you looked down the nearest side street that gave a view of the parallel road to witness a red, blue and white, Steve-shaped blur leaving you behind. ‘I’ll try and funnel him right. You go around and try to cut him off. Between us we’ll get him!’ 

This was the most like himself that Steve had sounded in weeks and the accidentally employed alpha voice made it easier to recoup some of the hope that you had lost so, you were prepared to let him off this time.

‘On it!’ Turning down an alley on your right you brought the part of you that was frightened to let Bucky out of your sight to heel. You would get to him before Hydra did as a team.

You had to.

All you could do was keep heading in the direction that you had been assigned and listen for further instructions. 

It felt like forever before anyone spoke, again.

‘Followed him into an apartment building,' Steve finally said and you knew him well enough by now to recognise his _I'm busy kicking ass_ voice before the connection started breaking up. 'Hyd...they're -’ 

'Steve!'

You were opening your mouth to speak again when you felt two hands grab you by the arm and the ground disappeared beneath your feet. 

‘Ally-oop,’ you heard Sam in your ear piece and free ear simultaneously as you whooshed over whole buildings. 

‘I hate it when you do that!’

‘That’s why I do it,’ he fired back, already heading for the skylight in the centre of the concrete slabbed roof that he had set you down on.

‘In that case, if this is the wrong roof, I swear I will -’

When you looked down through the dirty glass, the stairwell was littered with bodies; all black clad, suited and booted spec ops types. The walls were filled with bullet holes and fist shape crevices that only Steve or Bucky could reasonably have made. Shell casings covered the floor like snow, railings were pulled from the stairs. 

It looked like a warzone in there. ‘Sam, I owe you an apology.’ 

Sam didn’t reply, just nudged your shoulder and guided your attention to the face-up body nearest the top of the staircase and the white, skull headed octopus emblazoned on their bulletproof vest. 

_Hydra._

‘Steve, where are you?’ You spoke immediately into your comm.

Nothing. 

You and Sam glanced at each other.

‘Let’s get in there.’

‘Don’t need to ask me twice.’

Hand in hand, the pair of you jumped through the skylight without a second thought.

The stairwell was just big enough for Sam’s wings to open half-way and slow your descent. If Steve and Bucky came in to the building from street level then it was reasonable to assume that Hydra had followed them in and the carnage ended by the nearest, highest door. 

You didn’t feel the slightest guilt at landing straight on top of a maimed Hydra agent.

‘You’ll...pay...you'll all...’ the agent wheezed but your boot meeting his head knocked the guy unconscious before he could finish. You didn’t even bother with a venomously witty come back, you had more important things to attend to. 

_More important people._

A loud crash like splintering wood came from the nearest apartment, the voice that followed may have been quiet but you could tell that it definitely wasn’t Steve’s.

‘I’m not gonna kill anyone.’ 

You didn’t even wait for Sam to catch up before you kicked the door down. 

Two sets of blue eyes fixed on you; one relieved, one lit with that same fearful confliction.

Before any of you could react, Bucky pulled a scent-grenade out of the pocket of the backpack that he clutched in one hand. Yanking out the pin with his teeth, he threw it on to the ground.

In an instant the room was filled with thick, pink smoke that burned at your nose and tongue. 

Clamping your sleeve over your mouth and nose, your adrenaline-infused tracker brain really kicked into gear. Rubbing your eyes as clear as you could, you followed the movement in the smoke without hesitation.

'Y/N, wait!' Steve hacked somewhere from inside the cloud.

Before you knew it you had launched yourself through the window and the smoke cleared a little. You found yourself outside in time to see Bucky land and roll on to the lower roof opposite. However, it didn't clear fast enough for you see the edge of the balcony before you hit it.

The force that you had propelled yourself with carried you over the wall. You grabbed at the edge, failing to gain any purchase. For a moment you thought that this might really be it then one big hand closed around your wrist and jolted you out of your fall. Sam grabbed your other hand and the two of them lifted you up and over the wall, still coughing and hacking away as they set you down. 'I told you to wait,' Steve gently admonished, the pair pulling you into them like you were a kid who had just wandered off. 'Gave you an order.'

'Not following orders, wonder who I could've possibly learned that from.'

Steve didn't get the chance to either laugh or defend himself before Sam demanded your attention.

'Um...guys?' He began, pointing down to the roof across the street.

Bucky looked up at the three of you like he was frozen to the spot, even from a distance his vibranium fist seemed to dig into the wall that fenced the rooftop so hard that the plaster crumbled between his fingers. For a moment it looked as though his feet tried to move only to find themselves back where they started. He stood there in what seemed like a shoulder hunched burst of frustration before he looked back up towards you.

His lips moved, not that you could read what they were saying from there but it struck you as something painful from how his body language changed. Then he turned around, picked up the backpack from where it lay on the slabs and ran with a sway to his step that worried you to tears.

'I'm going after him,' Sam wheezed but as soon as he tried to stand on his own, his legs buckled underneath him.

Those scent grenades were more than just a pain in the ass. The disorientation of having your sense of smell removed wouldn’t kill you but was completely incapacitating to a degree that would take even Steve three days in the ER to start recovering from. Few people ever used them because they were indiscriminate and could at least partially penetrate any mask currently available.

To use one at close range was a desperate move.

Why Bucky would use it on the three of you and not the swarm of Hydra goons clogging up the stairwell was beyond your right minded comprehension, let alone when the world was spinning off it's own axis. 

Whatever scent-based leads may still remain in the apartment would be gone long before the smoke cleared and you had investigated enough similar dwellings by now to know that his exit strategy was impeccable. You would find nothing that would help your cause and it would be at least a couple of weeks before any of you could walk straight let alone be cleared for active duty. 

In short, once Bucky was out of sight, you were back to square one.

'Steve...' you half sobbed. ‘He’s stunned...if Hydra...’

'I know,’ Steve tried to reassure you, words starting to slur as you both slid down to the floor. ‘He got out almost as soon as it went off. It won’t have hit him as hard. He’ll be ok.'

You doubted that he truly believed the words that were coming out of his own mouth but you both needed to hear them. ‘We’ll find him again. We will.’

'I'm starting to get the impression this guy doesn't wanna be found,' Sam groaned, having taken to laying face down on the balcony beside you.

Those words cut deep, deeper than they had any right to.

He wasn't your friend.

He wasn't your family.

_But he's mine,_ a fiery little voice in the back of your mind answered and if you could have shaken your head to dislodge the ridiculous and unexpected mental wandering then you would have.

Uncoordinatedly reaching up to tap you ear piece, you barked: 'Call Tony.'

'Good plan. I like this plan,' Sam said, then finally passed out.

Steve nodded in agreement before apparently regretting it.

'Hey, Slugger,' Tony answered a little too loudly or cheerfully for your swimming brain to approve of, 'what's going on?'

'Can you come get us? Oh, and bringing Bruce and the medi-bag with the good shit in it might be a good call.’

‘Oh God,’ Tony groaned, ‘what the hell kinda situation have you knuckle heads gotten yourselves into now?’

‘Sam’s down, Steve’s slurring and I'm pretty sure I'm hallucinating.'

_No, you’re not. He’s mine!_ The voice insisted again. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely hallucinating.’


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and...angsty 😐

_11 Months Ago - Austria_

Bucky woke to a bright light directly above him. It was blinding at first but as his eyes sluggishly began to adjust, a ceiling of grey concrete came into view above the halo of the circular lamp.

He felt drunk.

No.

He couldn't get drunk.

This was something different.

What had he been doing?

Running.

He had been running.

Why was he running?

The wisp of a memory rose up as though caught in a bubble just beyond his reach. No matter how much he tried to touch it, it bounced off of the tips of his fingers and floated higher and further away.

He had no idea why he had felt the need to pound asphalt as fast as he could, only that he hadn't wanted to. He had wanted to stop and turn around and...

What?

Instead of answers, a new bubble rose up to meet him. This one came just a little closer, spoke just a little louder.

Vienna.

He had made it to Vienna.

Why?

What was he doing?

His stomach churned.

His head hurt.

What little of the world he could see above him swirled as he tried to lift his head.

He knew this feeling.

Where had he felt it before?

Barely half-formed thoughts whispered between his ears, curdling with the voices that seemed to be coming from outside of his dimly lit mind.

'They're all negative,' one voice said.

'Check the results again,' another replied over what sounded like the scratch of rustled pages.

'I've checked three times. None of them took.'

'Impossible.'

With near Herculean effort, Bucky turned his head in the direction of the voices but only managed so far.

There was an IV bag, somewhere between above and beside him, on his right hand side.

The clear fluid drip, drip, dripped downwards through the line.

It was oddly hypnotic to watch.

What was he supposed to be doing, again?

'He's awake!' One of the voices said, what sounded like genuine terror kicking their voice up an octave.

'Don't worry,' the other responded, their steady tone the complete opposite of the first. 'The IV is delivering the drug faster than even he can metabolise it. He won't be a problem.' 

The voice moved closer bringing with it the sickly lemon-like scent of an alpha. He couldn’t place it, it’s significance filling a bubble that floated on the outer rim of his consciousness with no way of coaxing it nearer. 

Still, it filled him with a deep, gut wrenching dread.

Without any direct request from his brain, his legs tried to flee. They managed only the slightest of movements before being pulled back into place. His arms met the same resistance, even the one that was supposed to be stronger for reasons that he couldn’t quite latch on to. 

_Move_ , he ordered himself, _you need to move!_

Finally, he managed to force his head to drop just a little, his eyes to look down just enough. 

He was in a chair. 

A familiar chair.

A chair that he knew he hated with every fibre of his being but couldn’t remember why. 

He was strapped to the one arm that he could see by forearm and bicep. He couldn’t see his legs but felt it safe to assume that they were similarly restrained. 

Attempting to force a little more will into his limbs was fruitless but for the creak of tight metal straps and a laboured whirring noise that reached his left ear. 

A hand closed around his face and jerked his head back up again. 

The alpha. 

The man.

Who was he? 

A white coat.

That was it.

A doctor.

One that wasn't there to make him better.

He looked down at Bucky as though scrutinising a sample on a microscope slide. 

Bucky felt his teeth clench, his arms managing to pull harder against his restraints. ‘Still has some fight in him, though,’ the doctor said.

Then he turned his attention away from his specimen, looked over him to address someone that Bucky hadn’t realised was there before. ‘Wipe him. See if that doesn’t settle him down.’ 

The next thing Bucky knew was the stagnant taste of rubber in his mouth.

The doctor walked away, returning to the voice that he had spoken with before. ‘Recalibrate the equipment to find the cause of the discrepancy then prepare the next batch,’ he commanded, voice dropping to a low and menacing whisper as he continued, ‘however, bring me failure again and I shall be left no option than to reason that the discrepancy is you.’

‘Y-yes, Sir.’


	6. Chapter 6

_11 Months Ago - New York_

You thumbed through the pages of the notebook. 

So much of your job required following data trails, used credit cards, phone records and CCTV. It was rare to have something solid, something tangible to work with. 

Even rarer considering who it belonged to.

The book couldn’t be that old in the grand scheme of things but it was well used. Though relatively small, its pages were crammed with notes, questions and little sketches of half remembered things. The edges were worn, not only used but read, focused and pondered upon, the corners scuffed as though always kept close. 

There seemed to be three categories that the contents fell into:

First, before and during the war. All things Steve, snippets about his family, odd names here and there that from the bits of Steve’s stories that you could remember off the top of your head had to be old girlfriends. Since the majority may be long departed by now and with no chance of Bucky involving them by seeking refuge even if they lived, you couldn’t allow yourself to pry more than professionally necessary by asking Steve however much you may want to.

 _Calm your shit_ , you told the part of yourself that in the peak of your post-grenade hysteria, had been persuaded to believe the emotions that the hallucinatory little voice had brought with it. That was the thing about hallucinations, they seem very real while your having them.

Second, The Winter Soldier years. Sketchy, less vivid fragments of memories were spattered throughout. The names and dates drowning in guilt and smudged, half written apologies broke your heart to read. 

Third, what you had come to call the redacted pages. Things written or perhaps drawn that had then been subsequently scribbled out so aggressively that in a few cases the pen had gone clean through the paper. Each blacked out space could be a couple of lines or a whole page but all had been expunged with the same vigorous determination. Even with all the technology and expertise at your disposal, he had done such a good job on them that there was no way that you could piece together what had been underneath. 

What was it?

Things that frightened him too much to face?

Memories that brought him too much pain?

Information that he hadn’t wanted to fall into the wrong hands?

‘You’re grinding your teeth, again,’ Sam grumbled from beside you on the sofa. 

It had been 5 weeks since your ill-fated mission in Bucharest and while Steve had been cleared for active duty after two weeks, it had been that long before Bruce would even considered letting you and Sam out of the med-bay. It had been like the single worst hangover of your entire life plus labyrinthitis, a fever and food poisoning rolled into one! Whereas the common side effects of disorientation, throwing your guts up and, what Bruce had called, “temporary nose-blindness” had mostly worn off, you still had the very occasional dizzy spell. Sam on the other hand had been suffering with the less common light sensitivity issues that could apparently piggyback off of the overwhelm of having your key sense marmalised. However, since your dizzy spells hadn’t been much to write home about in the last week and Sam’s goggles could filter out whatever may bother him in the field until his symptoms fully subsided, you were both being cleared for active duty. 

And you were not sad about it. 

You were starting to go nuts with nothing but Bucky’s notebook and a head full of unanswered questions to keep you occupied.

‘Can’t see me with your eyes closed, jackass,’ you jibed back at Sam, poking your best friend in the foot that had rested in your lap since you had joined him on the common room couch.

‘Don’t need to, could’ve heard all the way down the hall. And could you turn the volume down on all that thinking your doing while you’re at it? I’m trying to get some beauty rest over here.’ 

‘It just doesn’t fit his profile,’ you replied, still lost enough in your own thoughts to miss a golden opportunity for some quality banter.

‘Not only did the guy follow Steve half way around Europe back in the day but he dropped a live scent grenade right in our faces. I think we can all agree that his profile is dumbass.’ 

'A dumbass he may be but an idiot he is not,' you began with an unconscious intake of breath to fuel the slew of thoughts that had been buzzing like bees since you had set stretcher wheel back on American soil. ‘Unlike Steve, who's profile screams self-destructive as fuck by the way, Bucky has actual survival instincts. He knew that dropping that grenade would stun him too and that even if we didn’t catch up to him, Hydra still might at a time when he was least able to defend himself. But he did it, anyway. He must have thought it was his only option.’ 

You incredulously flicked through notebook, again. ‘He’s never left so much as a spec of dust behind him and then the clean up team just happens to find this forgotten in some random apartment in Bucharest? These are his memories, his life. It was important to him. He doesn’t leave stuff like this behind, he doesn’t make these kinds of mistakes -’

Sam groaned pitifully, grabbing the nearest cushion and pressing it over his face.

‘Why? Why did I engage? Abort! Abort!’

‘Sam, this is serious. He’s fatigued, he's slipping and next time it might not be us there to pick up the pieces.’

You registered the crack in your voice too late and it sat between you like a magnifying glass, concentrating to a burning point right over your heart. 

Sam pulled the cushion away from his face, holding it to his chest as he took you in with a raised eyebrow. 

You hadn’t even told Sam about the exact nature of your hallucinations and honestly, wasn’t something that you wanted to admit to anyone. The last thing you needed was to risk being benched by your overprotective friends.

Thankfully, you were saved by the rapid thump of footsteps and the classic Steve-shaped blur gunning it down the corridor outside the common room.

‘Why is Steve doing his “I’m about to try save the world single handed” run?’ Sam asked just as your phone lit up and started dancing furiously on the couch arm. 

_Sharon Carter._

'Why indeed?' You hummed with growing suspicion and picked up the call.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I usually try not to:
> 
> a) write chapters quite this short, and;  
> b) have this many flashbacks on the trot.
> 
> but it was how it was working best with the story and scene changes so, once again, rolling with it. The next chapter after this will be the last flashback for a while though, plus we'll get some drama hehe 😏😏😏
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for sticking with me this far and for the lovely comments, I adore hearing from you guys!
> 
> And also for those of you celebrating - Happy Hanukkah!
> 
> Enjoy!

_11 Months Ago - New York_

Armed and ready to go, Steve ran as fast as his legs would carry him and his relief to set foot on the jet before you or Sam realised that he was gone was evident in his -

The pilot’s chair turned slowly to face him. 

You sat in Sam’s lap while he stroked your head, both of you fixing Steve with a knowing glare.

‘Good eefenink, Meester Rogers.’ 

Steve’s look of relief crumpled into one of frustrated realisation. 

‘Leaving without saying goodbye?’ You said with a shake of your head. ‘That’s just rude.’

‘So rude,’ Sam agreed. 

Steve took in the pile beside your shared seat; your suits, weapons and ammo bags dumped after a hasty grab and run, Sam’s wings still warm from flying the pair of you up the outside of the tower in order to beat Steve to the jet.

It wasn’t fun but, under the circumstances, absolutely necessary.

‘No, no and no!’ The already suited Steve said, clenching his jaw and giving you both the hands on hips, Captain America treatment. ‘You are _not_ coming. Get out of that chair and back into that tower, right now.’

Sam gasped, mockingly wounded. 

‘Did he just tell us to _go to our rooms_?’

‘I think he did.’

‘I don’t have time for this,’ Steve grumbled, lifting the pair of you practically by the scruffs of your necks and setting you down by the open ramp. ‘Out. This is a personal mission.’

‘No, it's not!' You argued back, taking the “personal” part of his statement a little too...well...personally. 

‘Bruce -’

‘Has cleared us for active duty as of midnight tonight which, I do believe is exactly when we'll be touching down in _Austria_ ,’ you cut him off, emphasising the last word strongly enough to put across exactly how busted he was. 

Steve stopped in his tracks as he walked away, looking sheepishly over his shoulder. ‘You should know by now that Sharon tells me everything she tells you.’

With the good grace to look at least slightly apologetic, Steve turned to face you and Sam. 

‘Last time could have gotten the two of you killed. I can handle this on my own.’

‘I’m sure that’s exactly what Bucky was thinking right before Hydra jumped him,’ you cried, crossing your arms over your chest, ‘I know, lets just hand them the only other super soldier in existence on a silver platter while we're at it, shall we? What could possibly go wrong?’ 

‘This isn’t Bucharest, okay. This is a fully manned Hydra stronghold -’

‘Which is exactly why you’re not going in alone!’

He opened his mouth to protest but you weren’t having any of it. ‘We don’t have time for this,’ you snapped, using his own reasoning against him and holding up one finger in warning lest he try to “accidentally” use his alpha voice, ‘so, sit your ass down Captain Self-destructive. We’re coming with you whether you like it or not!’

And with that strip thoroughly torn off, you stalked away and took the pilot’s seat, firing up the engines with aggressive flips of switches and pounding of buttons.

Steve turned to Sam, the unspoken protest thrumming in his eyes.

‘Don’t look at me,’ Sam said with a shrug before moving to take his own seat, ‘I do what they do, just less dramatically.’ 

As the jet took off over the New York skyline, Steve seemed to finally concede and plopped into his chair with an almost sulky huff. 

‘M’not self destructive.’

Sam snorted out a laugh making the alpha pout more indignantly than before. ‘I’m not!’


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a run of short chapters, here is the last flashback for a while and a bit of a beast for you all, at that! 
> 
> Expect cannon typical violence, explosions, blood, injury detail and a shed load of growling. 
> 
> My Russian is a touch rusty so all copied and pasted from Winter Soldier Book and google translate. Oh, and the beta doctor is an alpha now so, we're just going to pretend that it's always been that way until I go back and do some editing 👍
> 
> Enjoy!

_11 Months Ago - Austria_

In the few hours that it took you to get to Austria, the three of you tag-teamed flying while the others tried to take advantage of the quiet before the shit storm and sleep a little. Not that you had managed to even doze despite your best efforts. You doubted that Steve had much luck, either. Sam could sleep anytime, anyplace and under any circumstances the lucky asshole so, at least one of you would be going in fresh as a daisy. 

Having your worst fears confirmed by Sharon - who had stumbled on the lead for Bucky’s whereabouts while she investigated a worldwide spate of missing omegas - had caused an uproar of emotions to erupt inside of you. Real or not they were getting harder and harder to keep under wraps. However, with the aim of your mission and that of those now voiceless feelings coming into sharp alignment, it made more sense to channel them, to use their fierce determination to your advantage rather than waste precious energy trying to stuff them down. 

Within reason, anyway.

The jet rocked as it touched down on the snowy mountainside, guided by Sam’s surgeon-like hands. With midnight in New York being more like six AM in Austria, at this time of year you were about an hour from sunrise. While landing in the dark with the help of the jets navigation system and sensors was one thing, free running across the Alps’ breakneck terrain, even with the help of night vision goggles, was something entirely different. 

You had no choice but to wait.

Your increasingly fevered pacing elicited more than a few curious glances from Sam though, he didn’t say anything and Steve seemed too preoccupied to notice as he laid out the final details of the plan. 

‘We should be about half a mile from this concealed entrance,’ Steve said, referring to the blueprints that you had studied so hard overnight that you saw it every time you closed your eyes. ‘This place hasn’t been on our radar for a while because it was abandoned when found but our intel says there are definitely signs of life now. If Bucky is in there, it’ll be crawling with Hydra agents. He’s more important to them than ever and now they know we’re actively searching for him, they’re not going to leave him unguarded.’

‘So, expect heavy resistance,’ Sam said, psyching himself up for the task at hand with a roll of his shoulders. ‘What else is new?’

You and Steve nodded your agreement then Steve tapped a blue gloved finger to another section of the base.

‘When S.H.I.E.L.D last swept the place, this area was where the cryo chambers were. Hydra may have done a little redecorating in between but with how the place is rigged it's unlikely that will have moved. I don't think I need to say that this is primarily a rescue mission and that Bucky is our main priority but we have a chance to deal a heavy blow to Hydra while we’re here.’ 

Steve wasn’t generally one to go after vengeance so, his statement was likely tactically motivated. You, however, weren’t averse to killing two birds with one stone. If this branch of bad guys came out of it like Swiss cheese, you certainly weren't going to loose any sleep over it. ‘I’ll head straight for the cryo chamber setting charges as I go. You two, rig the generator here,’ Steve ordered, pointing to a portion of the blueprints on the other side of the base, 'and keep it quiet. We want to maintain the element of surprise for as long as we can. We get Bucky, we get out, then we blow the place to hell. Any questions?’ 

‘What if we get in there and it’s not Bucky we’re dealing with?’ You asked, just managing to keep that inexplicable crack out of your voice, this time.

Steve’s expression softened.

‘That’s why I’m going to the cryo chambers alone. I don’t want you guys anywhere close if it’s The Winter Soldier that comes out of there. I can handle him,’ he said, continuing before either you or Sam could argue. ‘But I’ve been giving this a lot of thought these last few weeks. This was kind of personal between me and Bucky. I didn’t want to share it before because I didn’t want it to lose it’s impact but there’s so much that could happen here that we can’t predict and with us splitting up...’ 

Steve took a moment to breathe. ‘If something goes wrong or you guys run into The Winter Soldier and I’m not there, this helped bring him around in Washington. It might have given him pause in Bucharest if I'd really thought ahead.'

The guilt in his voice was palpable but once again, he gave you no chance to interject. 'It’s only right that you guys have it your arsenal, just in case.’

You and Sam exchanged a nod before looking back to Steve.

‘All ears, Cap.’

‘Listen to me very carefully and remember this word for word; I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal.’

After you had repeated it a couple of times, he continued. ‘It’s something we used to say to each other, something he associates with me. If it looks it’s hitting home tell him who you are to me, use anything from the stories I’ve told you to keep him thinking until I can get to you. If not, get the hell out of there and that _is_ an order,’ he said with a firm but emotive glance at you, ‘I’m not prepared to lose any more friends today. Am I clear?'

Sam nodded almost immediately then suddenly two sets of eyes, this time one blue, the other deep brown, were on you. It took you a few moments to force the words out of your mouth.

'Yes, Cap,' you eventually muttered. 

Satisfied, Steve looked towards the window taking yours and Sam’s attention with it. 

The sun was rising over the mountains, casting beautiful pinks and oranges over the snow covered cliffs. Under other circumstances, you could have just sat there and watched until it lifted into the crystal blue sky.

‘Then, let’s go.’

That half a mile felt like much further when the snow was up to your knees and every step could end in instant death. Still, you got to the entrance - a metal hatch bored into the mountainside - without being detected and in good time. 

After prizing the hatch open with one hand, Steve lowered you and Sam down into the darkened tunnel before jumping in himself. Switching to night vision you could see that the circular-ceiling corridor had clearly been disused for some time. Not a single lingering scent remained from anyone who may have passed through. 

‘If anything goes wrong, what do you do?’ Steve said one last time, apparently unable to settle until he had.

‘Get the hell out of there,’ you and Sam gave a good-natured whine as with a customary fist bump, you parted ways. 

‘Stay on comms,’ was Steve’s final order before jogging away down the corridor.

‘I swear, alpha’s can be such mother hens,’ you mused.

Heading down the tunnel in the opposite direction, there were several minutes of cautious silence before either you or Sam spoke, again. 

‘So, we gonna talk about what’s going on with you? You’ve been weird since Bucharest.’

‘I’ve always been weird.’

‘You’ve been weird _er_ since Bucharest,’ Sam corrected himself, continuing when you didn’t respond. ‘Is it falling off that balcony that’s got you shook or who we were chasing when it happened?’

You opened your mouth a couple of times only for the words to die on your tongue. It didn’t make any sense to _you_ , how was it supposed to make sense to anyone else? The strangely raw, empty armed sensation that had dogged every moment since your last mission wasn’t making it feel any less crazy or any easier to vocalise. ‘Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool. I just need to know if I’m gonna have to have the talk with the guy.’

‘What talk?’

‘The “break my best friend’s heart and I’ll break your legs” talk.’

It was a good job that the tunnel was abandoned because you couldn’t have held in your laughter if you tried. ‘And what’s so funny?’

‘Sorry, sorry. I just got a very clear image in my head of you going full Scrappy-Doo on The Winter Soldier,’ you explained, between giggles, snorts and flailing punch impressions. 

‘Now your just hurting my feelings,’ Sam teased back in feigned outrage, ‘and I don’t want to be hearing Scrappy hate from you. Little dude was a total badass!’ 

‘Thanks for having my back,’ you began sincerely when your joint laughter died down, ‘really. But no talk necessary. We’re getting Steve his family back, that’s it.’

‘Right.’ 

The elongated tone in Sam’s voice implied that he didn’t buy it. However, the light punch that he landed on your shoulder said that he wasn’t going to push you on it further and you were grateful for that.

You continued on in companionable silence until you came across the door you were looking for. Keen to get started, you got to work disabling the code pad while Sam stood watch. ‘That thing looks ancient,’ he observed while you pulled off the panel and started messing about with the wires underneath. 

‘That’s because it is,’ you replied, ‘it’s from the sixties, maybe seventies at the latest.’

‘Doesn't sound so secure.'

‘I guess, weirdly old can mean more secure sometimes,’ you said, talking helping to focus your thoughts and steady your hands. ‘It’s simple but effective, on a closed circuit with no internet capacity. It can’t be hacked or accessed unless you’ve got it right in front of you or managed to fight your way into the central mainframe. It's too old for most people to know what to do with it, kind of like that YouTube video where they give a Walkman to a bunch of six year olds and get them to try and figure out how to use it.’

‘Man, that video makes me feel old.’

‘You are old.’

‘Seriously though, is this how Steve feels all the time?’

‘Shhh,’ you said, pulling out your pocket knife as you counted wires, ‘I need to concentrate on this part so I don’t blow the fail safe.’

‘And what happens if we blow the fail safe?’

‘Boom!’

Sam went quiet for a moment.

‘And you're sure you know what you’re doing, right?’

'Nat taught a crash course on it at the academy.’

‘And that was how long ago?’

You thought about that for a moment. It was a while but to be fair you had graduated younger than most. ‘And that just fills me with confidence.’

‘Sam!’

‘Okay! Shutting up.’

With the quiet you were given, you felt your way through the last few wires. You closed your eyes, trusting your sense of touch in the face of the optical illusion created by the green buzz of your goggles before settling on one wire that was slightly thicker than the rest. 

With a steadying breath you wrapped the wire around the blade and pulled. 

Sam flinched, giving a relieved laugh when you both found yourselves still in possession of all your body parts.

‘Told you I knew what I was doing.’

With his hand on your shoulder, Sam gave you his best pep talk face.

‘And I always believed in you.’

Now it was your turn to hit him with a: 

‘Right.’

You lifted your goggles high on your head, Sam replacing his with his regular ones and together, you quietly pulled the door open. 

The corridors ahead were quiet and brightly lit. A few mingled scents met your nose as you stepped over the threshold and from their middling potency, you could tell that no one had passed by for at least two or three minutes. 

The pair of you fell into the silent, instinctive rhythm of two soldiers who knew each other back to front. You seamlessly covered each others backs, your eyes, ears and noses working together as one to avoid the frequent patrols that passed. Before long you were exactly where you needed to be, stealthing your way into the generator room. 

A sweep of the place proved it clear of personnel but you still had little time to waste. Steve had to be nearing the cryo chambers by now. You had to be ready to move. 

Sam took one side of the room while you took the other, setting charges at designated intervals and opportune spots. The fuel line was one such point. If you blew that then it would likely start a chain reaction throughout the base and that was not to be sniffed at.

You ran charges along the line, stopping only when something unusual came into view. 

‘Sam,’ you spoke quietly into your comm, ‘I've got a pair of brand new cables running under the fuel line. They go through the wall by the door where we came in.’

‘So, they have been doing some redecorating,’ came Sam’s reply.

‘Looks like it. These are seriously heavy duty. They must be hooked up to something big, maybe a secondary generator.’

‘Okay, I’ll circle back around and -’

‘We won’t have time to set all the charges in both places before we need to get out. You finish up in here and I’ll do some recon. Generator or not, if they’ve got an ace up their sleeve then we need to know about it.’

The line was quiet while Sam digested your hypothesis. 

‘Okay,’ he agreed, even though he clearly wasn’t happy about it. ‘But don’t be a hero, you hear me? If things get too hot -’

‘I’ll get the hell out of there. I promise.’

‘Keep me posted.’

‘Likewise.’ 

Following the cables back towards the door, you waited for a patrol to pass before leaving the generator room. They led you up the corridor, left and right and then, left aga before vanishing through the wall just above the last door at the end of the hallway. 

You only managed to take one more step before a loud crash echoed through the long space.

No more than a couple of feet away, a steel trolley - more like a filling cabinet on wheels - was pushed against the wall. Ducking quickly behind it, you peered over the top and listened.

A surprised yelp preceded a crash like a tray of instruments going over in a hospital. Gunfire rang out, bullets clanking off whatever metal they had hit. There was screaming, shouting, crashes, bangs and the sickening crack of broken bones. Whoever was in there was taking - or perhaps giving - a serious kicking. 

The door flew open, banging against the wall and a Hydra guard flew into the wall opposite as though thrown by someone ten times his size. 

_Or maybe four times his strength._

With your heart hammering in your chest you whispered into your comm. 

‘Steve? You made it to cryo yet?’

‘Yeah,’ was his intensely disheartened reply.

‘You find Bucky?’

‘Torn the place apart. He’s not here.’

‘Well, I think I might have found him.'

'You got eyes on him?' Steve's much perkier voice asked just as another body, this time a white coated doctor, came wailing through the door to meet the same fate as the guard. 

'Um...not exactly.'

The sound of boots - _many_ boots - pounding against concrete filled your ears, getting rapidly closer. You swung around to find a whole unit of guards rounding the corner behind you with barks of “we need him alive!” and a chorally apprehensive "yes sir!". For a moment, they looked at you and you looked at them before they all simultaneously raised their guns. ‘You’ve got to be shitting me!’ You groused as you vaulted over the trolley. 

‘Y/N!’ Steve’s voice clipped in your ear. ‘What’s going on? Talk to me!’

‘I'm a little busy, right now!’ 

You fired over the top, managing to get one guard in the head and three or four others in the neck or chest. However, they were closing in on you fast with too many to count let alone fight single handed. 

In a few short seconds you would be completely overrun with no means of escape. Even Steve couldn’t fight off this many. 

That meant that once they got through you - which, they would - Bucky was in trouble too. Sure, they may want him alive but that wasn't by any means a saving grace when Hydra was involved. 

With that thought, a fire ignited in your chest, that little voice not so little anymore as it roared through you and lit you up from the inside out. Had you ever heard the sensation described, you may have expected to feel out of control but you had never felt so centred, so sure and so unshakably focused.

With the options before you being do and maybe die or don’t and definitely die, taking Bucky along with you, it wasn’t even a choice.

So you _did_.

Pulling one of the charges off of your belt, you didn’t have the time or the inclination to talk yourself out of what was coming. 

Readying your aim, you threw the charge down the corridor and shot.

‘No!’

The opportunity to turn to the voice behind you was stolen as the heat of the explosion radiated outwards. 

For a split second up was down and down was up.

Then there was just darkness. 

Heavy, impenetrable darkness. 

Sam’s voice sounded worlds away in the silence that followed, his words only mildly discernible from the ringing in your ears. 

‘Y/N? Y/N!? Do you copy?’

You opened your eyes to flickering lights in a turning world, quiet but for Sam’s increasingly desperate requests. You tried to lift your head only set it back down with a groan not unlike a scream.

That hurt.

_A lot._

And if the warm, wet feeling on your forehead was anything to go by, you were bleeding pretty bad. A lung deep ache in your ribs told you that they were probably broken, the pain in your leg echoing the sentiment where it was buried beneath the rubble of the collapsed corridor.

'Y/N!!' It was Steve this time, his voice mingling with another though, it took you a couple of moments to realise that the voice wasn’t coming through your ear piece.

It carried on an echo from further down the hall, spitting singular words in a fearful, quaking tone between the pained grunts and groans of another. 

‘ _Печь, Девять...Добросердечный.’_

They managed to stammer out one more word before a guttural roar filled the space followed by sudden, bony snap.

A couple of footsteps hammered in your direction, however, the click of a loading gun stopped them in their tracks.

Someone bit out a short and sharp sentence, “comply” and “omega” the only words that you could make out in it’s quietly authoritative tone.

Long, thick moments passed. 

Then a growl, low and menacing rumbled through the air. 

A warning growl.

An alpha’s growl.

A jolt of electricity ran down your spine, infusing every cell in your body with the contradictory sensation of wired energy and cosy calm akin to having had a long soak in a hot bath. 

You managed to lift your head only a little but even seeing the world in triplicate you couldn’t mistake the black suited, silvery armed figure standing at the end of the debris littered corridor.

He stood hunched over, fists clenched, teeth bared. 

And he was not alone. 

A tall, white coated man stood between you holding, what in your swirling vision looked like, a pistol in your direction. 

‘ _Солдат?’_ The man said only to be met by a harsher, deeper growl. 

The doctor pulled back the hammer, his tone stronger and more resolved than before. ‘ _Солдат?’_

A seemingly endless moment of silence followed.

You felt your eyes get heavy again, your consciousness blurry. The significance of growing pool of wet warmth seeping down onto your shoulder wasn’t lost to your soldiers experience.

You felt your lips move, your head drop as the world around you grew hazier still. 

Then Bucky unclenched his fists, straightened up and bit out a shaky:

_‘Я жду приказаний.’_

Footsteps began crunching towards you, bringing the scent of lemon made rancid by the undertones of malintent.

'Now I understand,' the doctor said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it firmly to your forehead. 'You, my little omega, are very precious indeed.'


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back to present day with this chapter and a few things doth ensue! 
> 
> Warnings include: Medical investigations (but nothing invasive). Threat. Canon typical violence. Feelings of abandonment. Angst. Fluffiness. If you want anything else tagging or have suggestions, though, let me know and I will update!
> 
> Oh, and that "unseen entity" is me - sorry Reader 😅

You moved the pillow half an inch to the left.

Then the right.

Then the left again.

You tried putting it at the foot of the mattress.

Then against the wall.

Maybe on top of the pile of blankets that you had arranged around the edges of the mattress might work?

You tried it. 

It didn’t. 

Again and again you moved it, sometimes by millimetres, others by feet and getting increasingly distressed as the endless combinations fell to your exacting standards.

Throwing the damn pillow across the room for the third time this morning, you hurled a few choice words along with it only to shuffle over and clutch it apologetically to your chest before the whole process began, again.

You knew why it wasn’t right.

You knew why no matter where you put it felt like an offence to the nest that you had built and fretted over in the three days since Bucky had vanished into the air vent.

It didn’t smell like him anymore.

This morning they had moved you into a new cell, one right beside the “delivery room”. One of the doctors came pretty close to losing an eye with how fiercely you reacted to the prospect of having that pillow taken away from you. In your advanced state they hadn’t been willing to risk the well being of their prized creation by resorting to brute force so they had let your irrational attachment slide. The head doctor - that lemon-scented asshole of an alpha - had given you a questioning look but hadn’t pushed the matter.

It wasn’t like heavily pregnant omegas couldn’t be prone to occasional outbursts that made no sense, not even to them, right?

Well, that was your story and you were sticking to.

The truth, however, was that in moving you, it felt as though they had snatched away every tangible thing that you could connect to Bucky and the unfathomable sense of safety that he had brought with him.

Well, almost everything, you thought, resting one hand against your bump.

The upsurge of reassurance collapsed with the remembrance that if Hydra had their way, it wouldn’t be long before they stole your pup out from under you too. And that filled you with rage. There was no way in hell that you were going to just hand your little one over even if you had to take down every one of the bastards alone. 

Alone.

The word hung in your mind like a guillotine because that’s what you were, weren’t you?

Completely alone.

With no way to get in touch with your friends, you thought that you had resigned yourself to going through this all on your own before making your break for it. You were smart, capable and determined. It would be difficult, it would be dangerous, but you could, _would_ get you and your pup out of there.

However, when you had awoken to the feel of Bucky beside you, when that addictively calming scent had worked its way into your lungs, you had suddenly felt like a piece that had been missing had fallen into place. The cacophony of emotions erupted inside of you like a sleeping volcano, your omega instincts taking over with a sweetly painful vengeance, urging you to curl up in your alphas arms and let him take care of you. 

But there were no arms to hold you, were there? No alpha to make it all okay. Just a big, empty Bucky Barnes sized hole in your chest that had no right to be there.

You had always been fiercely independent, pushing back against any alpha who expected to just waltz into your life with the assumption that you would just bare your throat and let them wrap you up in cotton wool. One that scuttled back into an air vent like a cockroach wasn't worth your time regardless of what conflicting messages your hormone saturated pup brain might be trying to give you. 

You dried your eyes on your sleeve. 

You didn’t need him. 

Bucky may be the father of your pup but paternity alone did not your alpha make.

So, you would pick yourself up, you would do what needed to be done and you would get your pup out of this shit hole.

Alone.

No matter what.

Keys rattled in the door. Was it that time already?

You stood as the two doctors entered. This far along, standing was pretty exhausting in itself but you would be damned if you would let the aforementioned lemon-scented asshole in particular see you down.

‘You should be resting, omega,’ the head doctor said as his beta assistant pushed in the trolley of equipment necessary for the tests that they subjected you to every morning. 

‘Not _your_ omega,’ you hissed with slightly more venom than you may have the other side of three days ago but it was the truth in either case so you cut yourself some slack.

‘So you keep reminding me,’ he returned, gesturing to the chair in the center of the room. 

You waited for a moment before moving on principle then, took to the chair as he had suggested. Hydra were nothing if not arrogant and letting them believe that they had beaten most of the fight out of you suited your purposes. The more they learned to underestimate you, the better your chances of escaping when the time eventually came.

Still, pissing them off when they couldn't lay a finger on you was wildly entertaining and certainly better than reading those godawful books they brought you.

‘Thing One still not back?’ You asked as you settled into the cushioned armchair and the two doctors began buzzing around you with blood pressure cuffs, pen lights and a collection of things that beeped for reasons largely unknown. 

The beta - a graying haired woman in her fifties who always smelled anxious beneath the plumes of lavender and gorse - gave a huff, clearly not impressed at being the Thing Two in the equation. Thing One, her fellow beta and doctor, had been the woman’s wing man for your morning tests until a few days ago when the head doctor had inexplicably begun joining her instead. ‘That’s a shame. I do miss our thrilling conversations.’

‘Does anything come out of you mouth that isn’t tediously sarcastic?’ The alpha asked as he shoved a thermometer in your ear. You had seen the guy only for your most important “appointments” since they had successfully impregnated you and his bedside manner left more than a little to be desired. 

‘I like to take New Year off,’ you replied, long past wincing at the blood sugar needle that the beta stamped into your finger. 

Heavy boots clattered outside and a group of guards bolted up the corridor. You watched through the thick glass window in the top of the door as another group of guards followed, racing in the same direction as the last. Their helmets suggested that they were in full riot gear, the positions of the shoulders and upper arms indicating that they were all carrying rifles or semi-automatics of some description. 

_Interesting._

The alpha glanced at you thoughtfully, your interest not going unnoticed. ‘Nobody told me it was going to be the Hydra half marathon, today,' you said by way of deflection. 'I would have been ready to throw jelly beans at them as they ran past.’

Seeming irritatedly satisfied that you were merely taking the opportunist approach to riling him up, the doctor rolled his eyes. 

‘It is a training exercise. Your “jelly beans”,’ he responded with no small amount of condescension, ‘would be surplus to requirement.’

No sooner had the words left his mouth, the beta’s anxiety pheromones kicked into a whole other gear, her hands shaking as she attached the blood pressure cuff around your arm.

_Training exercise, eh?_

‘Hey,’ you continued, capitalising on the head doctors growing annoyance to maintain an adequate distraction. ‘I had a friend who did an marathon once and he said that jelly beans were the only thing that got him through it.’

Discreetly reaching into the cart, you felt around until you felt the smooth plastic of the syringe, ready filled with sedative that they kept to threaten you with following your first and not so amiable encounter. ‘You should seriously consider making them standard issue.’

A siren began blaring through the tannoy and red spiraling light lit the corridor outside. 

Now that was a much better distraction than a bit of perfunctory yabbering.

When the beta instinctively turned towards the noise, you pulled the cap off the syringe and sank the needle into her neck, squeezing the plunger. The woman gave only a half-hearted swipe in her defense before slumping to the floor. However, while she may have been easy pickings the head doctor certainly wasn’t. His hand was instantly around your throat, pushing you back into the chair as he bore down on you. 

‘How far do you think you’re going to get in your condition?’ He stated more than asked, appearing more inconvenienced than fazed. 

He looked at you for a moment as you fought for breath, a smug grin curling his lips. ‘What, no sarcastic come back?’ 

Placing one hand on the inside of his forearm, you swung your other at his elbow and turned your shoulders. 

The joint gave way with a sickening crack.

The alpha screamed, his habitual vexation giving way to indignant rage. You were quick to move before he could gather himself, tearing the blood pressure cuff from your arm and coiling the wire around his neck. 

‘Surplus to requirement,’ you spat in his ear as you maneuvered yourself around the back of him and pulled the wire tight. 

He struggled and flailed with his good arm, landing an elbow into your side. It wasn’t as hard a hit as it could have been, a tactic clearly intended to surprise rather than injure but it did it’s job. The shock of it loosened your grip and he took advantage of the chink in your armor that the fear for your pup created. 

Wrestling you down onto the ground, the doctor straddled you, pinning you to the floor. He pulled a tazer out of the pocket of his white coat, angling it directly above your bump. 

‘You may wish to reconsider your position,’ he croaked. However, you didn’t have the time to assess how empty the threat may be before the door crashed open and a boot made itself acquainted with the doctor’s face. 

The scent that engulfed you as the alpha’s limp form was dragged off of you lifted your spirits higher than they had been in months.

‘Sam?’

Before you knew it, he was on his knees beside you, pulling you into his arms. ‘You’re real, right?’ You gasped in his rich, familiar scent - all rosemary and sea breezes - as rivers of hot tears ran down your cheeks. And from the muffled sniffles against the side of your head, you figured that he wasn’t far behind. ‘You better be real, you son of a bitch!’

‘I’m real,’ he replied with a shaky huff of a laugh. ‘And I’m mad. How could you leave me to handle these losers all on my own, huh?’ 

You turned and looked up to find Steve and Nat standing in the doorway with equally relieved and teary looks on their faces, Steve sighing into his comm like he had been holding his breath for years. 

'We've got them.'

Holding both your hands in his, Sam held your arms out at your sides, taking in your bump before looking back up to you. ‘I see you’ve been...busy.'

Just that little moment of familiar banter, full of support and free of pity, convinced you that this was indeed your best friend more than any scent on earth ever could. 

'It's so good to see you guys,' you may have wailed if the lump in your throat hadn't strangled it. 

'We've missed you, too' Nat replied on behalf of everyone before they were all piling in. Nat knelt beside Sam, both wrapping you up in a tight hug while Steve bundled the lot of you into his arms like an overbearing Dad that you had never been happier to see.

‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ Steve said before cutting himself off. He pulled back a little, taking a few long sniffs with an increasingly knitted brow,

‘How do you smell like -’

Steve’s conclusion was interrupted by yet more gunfire sputtering at a distance, getting closer. 

‘Um...long story. No time,’ you said, receiving a ponderous if understanding nod in return as Steve got up and marched over to the door which, in true Avengers style, had been wrenched off it’s hinges. 

‘Let’s get you out of here, Sweety,’ Nat said, dumping the spent magazine from her gun and and reloading from the collection on her belt. ‘We can talk about this later.’

‘I’m good with that,’ you replied and, placing your hands on Sam’s shoulders, pulled yourself to your feet.

A sudden, cramping pain clawed at your lower abdomen. Your knees hit the concrete floor as you crumpled down, a gut wrenching yelp tearing from your lungs.

‘What happened?’

‘Are you okay?’

‘What’s wrong?’

The questions came thick and fast as you whimpered into Sam’s chest and tried to get your bearings. Your awareness sank lower, beneath where the pain had hit in woeful realisation. 

‘Oh, give me a break!’ You yelled up at whatever unseen entity must be visiting this hell upon you.

Nobody on earth could be _this_ unlucky! 

‘What’s wrong?’ Sam repeated, holding on to you tight as stress ravaged your scent. 

‘I think my waters just broke.’ 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was on a roll this weekend so, here is a much earlier than expected chapter 10, I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> I logged in to an inbox of lovely comments and I just wanted to say thank you so much to all of you who have been reading and getting in touch - hearing from you guys just lights me up😊
> 
> As usual, expect canon typical violence plus contractions to further the plot and some good old fashioned growling😉
> 
> Much love x

A concerned look passed between your three friends, the silent conference interrupted by still more distant gunfire.

‘That’s...problematic,’ Sam said, holding on to you a little tighter.

‘Yeah, problematic is exactly the word I'd use,’ you groaned back. 

‘But, hey, don’t worry. First pups take a while. We’ll get you out of here before things start getting real.'

He didn't sound entirely convinced despite his best efforts but you gave him a pat on the shoulder and a gold star for effort all the same.

Steve and Nat wordlessly switched places guarding the door. 

‘Come on, I’ll carry you,’ Steve suggested as he threaded one arm under yours. 

‘Um, Steve...’ Nat spoke from the doorway. ‘I can hear a lot of boots coming our way. Both directions.'

A collective, unspoken “fuck” hung in the air.

Boxed in like that, there was no way that you were going to make it far without heavy casualties, if you made it at all.

‘Well, needs must, I guess.’ 

Once again bracing yourself against Sam’s shoulders you pushed yourself up onto your feet. 

'What are you....can you even stand?' Sam howled, horrified by the very idea.

It wasn't comfortable by any stretch of the imagination but with Sam supporting you on one side it was about as manageable as you could hope for. As long as you didn't look down, as long as you didn't see the evidence of your imminent labour, it wasn't real yet.

That was how it worked, right?

Once you had a steady footing, you grabbed one of Sam's guns from the holster at his hip and had it loaded and ready to go in a blink.

'I'll manage.'

Steve regarded you thoughtfully before addressing the group.

‘Okay, new plan. I'll try and clear the way up front. Lay down some fire from here and pin the others for as long as you can.'

Returning his attention to you, Steve's gaze dropped to you bare feet.

Hydra had confiscated your boots the second that they had got their hands on you and hadn't felt the need to replace them, presumably to discourage you from trying to run away into the snow covered, Siberian wilderness.

Your friend needed no explanation, tearing off his boots and quickly wrestling them onto your feet.

'Steve,' you began to protest but he wouldn't hear a word of it.

'They could be necessary if we have to go to Plan B. I think you're acquainted with it.'

'Something along the lines of "get the hell out of there"?'

'That's the one.'

'But you're gonna -'

'I'll heal faster than you will,' he insisted, leaving no room for argument before rising again and grabbing his shield from its perch on his back. He marched towards the door leaving you all with your parting orders. 'Don't move until you have to. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

Then he was off at full speed and things really kicked off.

Nat rained lead down the hall as the shooting started in earnest, the three of you rotating while the others reloaded to keep the majority of the small army pinned around corners and in door ways. A few were dumb enough to try and charge you and you took your shot, managing a few direct hits between a couple of, what you assumed were relatively mild contractions.

'How you holding up there, Champ?' Nat asked as she reloaded and you emptied your magazine, getting a guard between the gaps in the neck of his suit.

'Actually, this is oddly therapeutic,' you responded.

Sam laughed, seamlessly taking your place when your bullets were spent.

'It really hasn't been the same without you around.'

Without warning another contraction hit you much, _much_ harder than the last. Nat was at your side in an instant, guiding you back onto the bed and forcibly giving you her hand to squeeze.

You were incredibly grateful.

'How much ammo do we have left?' You managed to ask. Nat in particular came prepared for anything but even she didn't have unlimited ammo and there were still enough guards down there that you would be sitting ducks the second that you set so much as a toe out of the door.

She hesitated only a second before answering.

'Enough.'

'For a super spy, you're a terrible liar,' you tried to joke back but a little thread of hopelessness began to take root, especially when you were completely at the mercy of your own body.

'Don't worry. It'll all be -'

A deafening roar rattled the glass in the crippled door, so much so that you all ended up with your hands over your ears. The continuous gun fire was suddenly aimed elsewhere, interspersed with crashes and screams and one very loud:

'Hulk smaaaaassshh!'

Nat's demeanour picked up and a sappy, proud smile lit up her face. 'It'll all be fine.'

'What took you so long!' Sam half-mockingly grumbled as Steve materialised in the doorway and handed him his shield.

'Needed a distraction,' he responded, hoisting you up into his arms and wasting no time in hightailing it in the opposite direction to the carnage.

'That's a distraction, alright.'

Noise gave way to silence as Steve ran you through corridor after corridor. Before long you hit a junction that you recognised from earlier that day. Just ahead was your old cell and, in addition to the conflicting memories, it brought with it the sounds of violence.

Steve slowed up, Sam and Nat taking a weapons and shield raised stance in front of you as a new collection bangs and crashes ricochet off of the concrete walls.

With one final smash, silence descended once again.

Then you felt your nose twitch, your pup kick.

You could practically taste it in the air around you.

'Wood smoke and rainy New York streets.'

'What?'

Steve must have thought that pain and stress had robbed you of what was left of your marbles but then, in two purposeful strides _he_ stepped out into the corridor.

For a moment nobody was sure what to do, least of all you. You're heart simultaneously soared and sank. You wanted to excitedly squeal his name, make needy grabby hands, curse the day he was born and cry on Steve's shoulder all at once.

Bucky looked straight past Sam and Nat, his gaze landing on you. For a moment his eyes turned soft, relieved as he took in a deep, savouring breath. Then his attention turned to Steve; his arms cradling you, his boots on your feet.

His features tensed in response, fists clenched and teeth bared like a man possessed.

'Hands. Off. Now.'

You could smell the confliction in Steve's usually steady, bergamot scent. However, his grip only tightened around you, his voice strong and sure as he spoke.

'Which Bucky am I talking to?'

You could see the cogs turning in Sam's brain as he took in the responding reaction and demeanor of the alpha before him.

'Y/N, what am I missing?' He asked but nobody had the chance to dwell on his words before that deep, alpha growl rumbled in Bucky's chest.

'I'm not gonna ask you again.'

Steve hesitated a moment before looking down at you and the hand that you placed on his shoulder.

'Steve, put me down. It's okay,' you said. However complicated the situation between you and Bucky may be, you knew that he wouldn't hurt you. And that was more than you could say for anyone else if Bucky fell headlong into full alpha mode, there and then. 'He's not thinking with his head, right now.'

You hoped that the little reassurance would be enough to ease the hurt that Steve had to be feeling in the face of his oldest friends hostility but rather than seeming wounded he simply nodded in understanding. However far the human race progressed, some prehistoric instincts still held on with an unyielding grip. There probably wasn't an alpha on earth who could promise that they wouldn't go a little crazy at finding another alpha looking so cosy with their - in the biological sense, anyway - omega and soon to arrive pup.

With gentle giant care, Steve set you on your feet and took a step back, signalling Sam and Nat to stand down. Sam didn't look entirely convinced but lowered his weapon when you reassuringly met his gaze.

In seconds Bucky was in front of you, the hot headed alpha body language and pheromones dropping like autumn leaves the closer he got.

'Are you okay -'

Holding out one hand in front of you, you gave him a hard shove backwards.

'And where the hell have you been?' You demanded.

For a long moment he stood there, mouth agape in pure shock. The others looked between each other, Nat suppressing a particularly empathetic smirk.

It took a few attempts to form a sentence but he got there eventually.

'I was...I had to...I was coming back.'

Though the words soothed that part of you that had felt completely abandoned, you were still far from appeased.

'Do I look like a mind reader?'

He wasn't entirely sure how to answer that and he didn't get the opportunity. That gut crushing pain tore through you, doubling you over. You found yourself engulfed by two big arms, one infinitely more unyielding than the other. Weaving one arm under your legs, Bucky scooped you up and started walking.

'Let's get you out of here first,' he said against your temple. 'Then I promise you can yell at me more later.'

'I'll hold you to that,' you grumbled. You wanted to be sulky about it, you wanted to put up more of an argument, you wanted to feel like the handle your own shit, completely in control omega that you had always strived to be but you were exhausted and it hurt and, you felt so goddamned calm and safe in his arms that you gave in to it in a heartbeat.

Something almost like a chuckle tickled your forehead.

'I'm sure you will, Doll.'

'The jet's on the South West side of the base,' Sam was saying, 'if we keep going straight we'll hit the exit in -'

Static crackled through the tannoy overhead. Whoever was on the other end took a couple of deep rasping breaths before their voice seemed to fill every inch of the base.

'Желание.'

Bucky tensed.

'Oh, shit.'

'Ржавый.'

He grimaced as though in pain, his breathing hitching before descending into hyperventilation.

'Семнадцать.'

You recognised that voice.

The alpha.

The doctor.

He must have come around and made it to the nearest intercom.

Clumsily putting you down, Bucky stepped back, grasping at the wall as he bent near double.

'Get away from me,' he breathed.

'Bucky! What's wrong? Talk to me.' You asked, unconsciously trying to get closer until his voice rose in desperation.

'Get away from me!'

'Рассвет.'

Giving a pained growl, he fell to his knees.

'They're trigger words,' Nat voiced the realisation, raising her gun towards Bucky.

'Nat!' 

Your friend gave you an apologetic look as she elaborated. 'The Red Room had something similar. We need to get out of here before we have The Winter Soldier on our hands.'

Your heart sank into your borrowed boots as the next word rang out.

'Печь.'

You knew that you couldn't face The Winter Soldier again and live to tell the tale but the sight of his suffering tore you apart.

'Y/N,' Sam's voice, gentle and pained on your behalf came from behind you as his hand took yours. 'Come away, there's nothing we can...'

There was that fire again, taking you back to a different corridor in a different time. This time it burned hotter, brighter, eclipsing itself so completely that you were astounded that you didn't combust on the spot.

It wouldn't be diverted.

It wouldn't be tamed.

And it wouldn't give up.

'No,' you said. 'This is not happening!'

'Y/N!' Steve cried but you were already on your war path againsr the assault on your alpha.

Shrugging Sam off, you knelt before Bucky despite his struggling protests and pressed your palms over his ears as hard as you could. 'Look at me,' you commanded, lifting his head so that he could read your lips. 'Just breathe for me, okay.'

He looked half out of this world and into the next but he did as you asked, his lack of reaction to the word that followed reassuring you that your simple efforts were paying off. 'That's it. Deep breaths for me.'

Slowly but surely, his glassed over eyes became brighter, his demeanor more cognizant. He leaned forward, heaving your scent into his lungs until blissed out was the only look on his face.

The corners of his lips began to twitch, breaking into a broad, cheek to cheek grin. It was the first smile that you had ever seen from him - even in the photos in his file he had looked every bit the straight faced soldier - and you almost forgot how to breathe.

Then he laughed, properly, whole-heartedly laughed.

'Why didn't I think of that?'

Laughter seemed to bubble up from deep inside of him, filling the halls with the sweet sound.

'Why didn't _we_ think of that?' Sam asked, receiving wordless shakes of heads and incredulous shrugs from his other team mates.

'He done?' Bucky asked when he finally caught his breath.

The last three crackling expulsions from the tannoy we're merely a repeated: 'Солдат?'

Nat gave a nod in confirmation that the danger was gone.

Bucky took your face in both his hands as you removed yours from his ears, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. Then he got to his feet, padded over to the nearest intercom and pressed the button. He waited a couple of seconds before leaning in to the mic. 'See you in hell, asshole.'

In moments he was back at your side and lifting you into his arms, again. 'Now, I believe we have somewhere to be.'


	11. Chapter 11

You caught only a fleeting glimpse of the inside of your old cell as you were carried past but the collection of guards strewn about were looking a little worse for wear to say the least. Still, Steve closed the door and bent the handle out of shape for good measure. 

The place was like a ghost town between there and the exit. Odd pieces of information filtered through the haze that your weary mind had settled into as the team spoke into their comms but none of it stuck.

You tried to process that this was it. 

You were really free. 

However, you couldn’t fully bring yourself to believe it until the blinding light of the world outside hit your now sensitised retinas. 

‘You okay?’ Bucky asked when you flinched.

‘Yeah. Just haven’t seen daylight for a while.’

You could feel his jaw clench against your forehead as he pulled you closer into the crook of his neck, shielding your eyes. 

His voice was gentle if assured when he spoke, at odds with the strong, livid pheromones that somehow managed to filter through his suit.

‘And I’m never gonna let that happen, again.’ 

Relaxing into him, you chose to ignore the part of you that was dubious as to the practicalities of “never” when there was nothing but your pup tying you relative strangers together. However, with your world currently being the eventful and unpredictable place that it was, you couldn’t even wrap your head around the practicalities of _now_. If choosing to believe that you and your pup would be safe for the rest of your days was what you needed to get through the next few hours then, you were happy to let the practicalities of the future be Future You’s problem. 

Beneath Bucky’s stubbled chin you could make out the snow covered mountains - not unlike those that you had last seen - stretching for miles, reflecting milky sunlight that gained in strength as a result of their assistance. The cold Siberian climate was a shock, however, the heat that Bucky kicked out like a furnace would temper it remarkably well until you were onboard the jet. 

The ledge that the exit was bored into was large and flat enough for the jet to sit comfortably atop a blanket of snow, violated by the boots of many. Teams sporting uniforms including but not limited to Interpol, MI5 and the CIA huddled in groups, taking orders from their respective superiors before marching into the base. 

The Winter Soldier was the subject of more than a few venomous glances but Bucky didn’t seem fazed unless another alpha happened to venture too close, a pointed glare often enough to encourage them towards a less inflammatory distance.

As Bucky made a hasty beeline for the jet, the familiar whoosh of Tony’s suit ruffled the snow when he landed a little way in front. His helmet opened to reveal his slack, beard covered jaw and wide eyes. He looked from you to your bump then, to Bucky, cycling through them over and over in the time that Bucky closed the gap and carried you straight past him, too focused on the task at hand to indulge in non-imperative acknowledgements with strangers. Thankfully, Tony was just far enough away to not set of Bucky’s alpha antennae. 

‘Hi, Tony,’ you managed to mumble against Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a little wave. 

Tony mindlessly waved back, turning to Steve as he caught up.

‘What parallel universe did I just fall into?’ 

‘I don’t know the full story yet,’ Steve replied with a baffled shrug, barely seeming to notice the snow around his bare feet. ‘But, apparently, it’s a long one. The immediately important parts are Y/N’s in labour and Bucky’s the father so, I wouldn’t recommend getting too close for a while.’

‘Holy shit!’ Tony cried and Steve could practically see his credit card running away with him. ‘I feel like I’m gonna be a Grandpa. Is that normal? Never mind, doesn’t matter. Jarvis?’

‘Yes, Sir?’ 

‘We’ve got some shit to order, delivery like, yesterday!’ He informed the AI before looking back to Steve as his frenzy built. ‘Boy? Girl?’

‘Not a clue.’ 

Sam gave a nonplussed shrug.

‘That’s cool. Gender neutral’s the thing now. We can work with this.’ 

‘Did I just see what I think I saw or is the altitude sickness kicking in?’ Clint’s voice sounded in everybody’s ear. He had been perched on the cliff above them since before the other agencies arrived, playing lookout over the exit.

‘Yes,’ Tony replied.

‘To which part!?’

‘There’s a lot going on down here,’ Steve said. ‘We’re gonna need to get Y/N home as soon as possible. Can you get down here and fly?’ 

‘Sure. I’m freezing my balls off up here, anyway.’

‘I did not need to know that,’ Sam threw back. 

Steve decided to let them bicker and turned to Nat.

‘Might be a good time for a lullaby. I know Bruce is gonna be dead on his feet but I don’t think we’ll be able to do without his expertise.’

Nat thought a moment before nodding, natural concern for her omega grappling with the facts of circumstance before them. Then she turned purposefully back towards the base with a finger to her ear.

‘Time to come in, Big Guy. Sun’s getting real low.’

‘Sam would you go help Clint get ready to take off and keep an eye on how Y/N’s doing? I know they’ll want you around and I don’t wanna crowd them with alpha’s until we have to.’

‘On it,’ Sam responded and jogged over towards the jet.

When he turned back to Tony he was in full fuss mode.

‘...and you know the company that made the Christmas bunny for Pepper? Get in touch with them.’

‘Because that went so well, last time,’ The AI responded.

That poor pup wasn’t going to know what hit them. 

‘Think you could focus for thirty seconds, Grandpa?’

Tony gave Steve a playfully disgruntled glare.

‘Hey, I call _you_ Grandpa. That’s how this works,’ he protested swishing his hands between them. ‘It is the foundation on which our friendship is built, the balance that must be maintained or the universe itself will unravel around us...’ 

He barreled on through a few more sentences while Steve rolled his eyes, not quite managing to keep the smile off his face before getting down to business.

‘How many more did they find?’

‘Thirty, so far but they're not done searching by a long shot,’ Tony replied, gesturing to the masses of people from agencies the world over that were scattered across the mountainside. 'Some of these omegas have been missing for years. It's insane.’ 

‘Jesus.’

‘We could be days getting everybody out of there, months figuring out what’s been going on in this place.’

‘Any of them got pups?’ Steve asked, the question thoughtfully scrunching Tony’s face.

‘Jarvis?’

‘None as of yet, Captain Rogers.’

‘What’s going on in that fossil head of yours?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’ Steve replied. ‘I need to head back. If Bucky gets all knot headed I’m the only one who can reasonably handle him. You good finishing up here?’ 

‘Sure. Sure. You just go and take the entire team with you. No drama.’

‘I knew you’d understand. Keep me updated.'

'I'm so unappreciated,' Tony grumbled.

Steve gave his friend a playful bump on the shoulder then headed over to the jet. 

It was going to be and interesting few hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's my question...how is writing 800 words a day for Nano like pulling teeth and then I knock out three chapters of this in three days without even trying? Seriously, how does that work???? 
> 
> This chapter's relatively chill and may be the last one before Christmas (but who knows? Not me!) so, if I don't see you all before, I wish all those of you who celebrate as good a Christmas as possible under the circumstances. If you're cut off from loved ones or feeling lonely and disconnected, wherever you are, whether you celebrate or not, please accept all this love right here ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤. We will get through this and make 2021 EPIC!!! 
> 
> Lots of love my dudes xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, I've never known a writing jag like this but I am enjoying it so much!
> 
> In this chapter there are more labour pains and some hints at post traumatic stress but there is also protective/possessive Bucky and the necessary fluff quota has been filled.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> x

The first thing you did when Bucky stepped into the jet was take a long, deep breath. 

The mingled scents of the team, the memories of missions that you had smashed and the ones that had smashed you, the laughs, the tears, the solidarity.

This smelled like home.

This smelled like family.

The family that hadn't given up on you in the almost year that had passed.

One big, silent tear ran down your cheek.

Then another.

And another.

Before you could do anything to stop it, the flood gate, welded shut out of necessity for so long, opened and let loose a tsunami. You sobbed and wailed and shook in Bucky's arms, clinging to the strap of his harness as though it was the only thing that could stop you plummeting.

The undertones of worry flooded his scent almost at the moment that you started crying. Taking the nearest seat, he cradled you in his lap like a kid who had done a little more than grazed their knee. His flesh hand disentangled itself from beneath your knees and cupped your face, holding you tightly against him. It felt like his entire body curled around you and even in this vulnerable moment, being held by an alpha who, in reality, you barely knew, you had never felt so protected.

'I have no idea how this whole pup thing works,' he breathed, squeezing you tighter as he spoke. ‘Just...tell me what to do and I'll do it.'

Even through your distress you could hear it in his voice as much as you could scent it in the air around you. 

Concern.

Uncertainty.

Helplessness. 

You knew from bitter experience what a shitty combination those last two especially could be, so much so that you wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy. However, there was something else lurking beneath it, an underlying pattern between the stilted, though genuine, words befitting a secondary profile. 

_Give me orders._

You clung to him a little tighter, this time not for your own benefit, before drying your eyes. Though, you had no personal experience of the Bucky of old, you did have a frame of reference - however fleeting - of The Winter Soldier and the Bucky that you had found in Bucharest. When you looked up, the man gazing down at you appeared somewhere betwixt and between, heartfelt yet restrained and evidently shaken by the mile a minute events that would take some processing at the best of times. 

‘I don’t know how it works either,’ you responded, surprised that your voice or your brain were working well enough to string a sentence together. ‘I have no idea what to do or what I need. But you’re here and that helps _so_ much.’

Looking all at once comforted and as though that didn’t quite compute, Bucky thought for a long, long moment, the expression on his face almost identical to that analytical gaze with which he had observed you the last time that you had met. However, this time his eyes held a deep and nagging doubt.

‘We really don’t know each other?'

You took a breath before answering.

‘Well...technically...’

Footsteps more like running stomps clattered up the ramp and Sam appeared before you, Clint following swiftly behind. Bucky’s gaze jerked towards them, wary of the intruders who’s scents hadn’t reached him yet. Upon coming face to face with a leery Winter Soldier, Clint took an awkward step back. Sam held his ground, maintaining enough eye contact to convey his assertive self-confidence without appearing too threatening. 

‘Clint! Oh my God,’ you said, almost in tears again as you held your hands out towards him. 

‘Hey, you,’ he replied, joy at seeing you lighting up his face but he stayed put and you knew him well enough not to take it personally. Clint was a _badass_ and no two ways about it but he was also a watcher by nature. Under these circumstances with an unknown quantity in Bucky and in which, he hadn’t had the opportunity to assess the lay of the land, he wouldn’t want to unwittingly overstep when stress was clearly the last thing that you needed. 

He was the team sweetheart, to say the least. 

‘Clint this is Bucky, Bucky this is Clint,’ you explained in the hopes of settling everyone’s nerves as the scent of beta swept in along in the icy breeze. ‘And you’ve already met Sam. These guys are two of my best friends, saved my life more times than I can count.’

You could also mention all the times that you had got each other into trouble on all those rowdy nights out before Clint had settled down and started his own family but that was probably a collection of stories best left for another, less pheromone driven day. 

A tense moment passed as Bucky took the two men in, the alpha in him instinctively assessing the potential risks of allowing others so close. However, your glowing recommendation and their lack of alphahood must have swung opinion in their favour because he relaxed just enough for Clint to follow your summons without the fear of having his head torn off. 

‘How you doing there, Trooper? We’ve been kicking all kinds of butt trying to find you.’ He said, taking you hands in his and giving them a big squeeze since Bucky clearly wasn’t prepared to let go of you for long enough to allow for a hug. ‘How you feeling? What do you need?’

‘Got an epidural in your back pocket?’ 

Clint smiled, reassured that you were feeling yourself enough to be cracking jokes before pulling in a breath through his teeth and patting his hands over his pockets. 

‘Damn it, that’s my other pants.’

‘Typical,’ you bounced back, rolling your eyes.

You were conscious of Bucky observing the interaction before him, feeling his curious eyes on you rather than seeing but you didn’t have the time to dwell on it. 

‘We’re gonna get up in the air as soon as Bruce and Natasha get back,’ Clint was saying. ‘And for the record, I want first dibs on pup cuddles.’

'You got it.'

As if waiting for her cue, that pup of yours decided that right then would be a good time to knock on the door. Another contraction ripped through you and took - what felt like, anyway - much longer to subside. Once again clinging to Bucky’s harness, you rode it out with a mournful sob as he curled around you even more.

‘Think I got me a date,’ Clint said, excitedly clapping his hands together and you couldn’t help but laugh. With two pups of his own, Clint knew this rodeo back to front. Nothing could stress him out. ‘How far along are you?’

‘I don’t know,’ you replied, ‘beginning-ish. This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.’

‘Well, how long are you going between contractions?’

You shrugged. 

‘I’ve kind of been busy shooting people.’

‘Why does that not surprise me?’ Clint mused with a mocking shake of his head. Then he looked to Sam who thought carefully on the matter. 

‘Maybe fifteen minutes.’ 

‘And when did they start?’

‘About an hour ago.’

‘Early then. Lila took a while so we’ve probably got plenty of time. I’ll do my best to get you back before the big finale, okay? You want a shower once were up in the air? Laura said it made her feel better and Bruce still keeps a ton of clothes in the drawer. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.’ 

‘Who’s Bruce?’ Bucky asked, the beginnings of that rumble in his chest as when he had told Steve to get his hands off you. However, when you turned back to him he looked more surprised at hearing the words come out of his mouth than anybody.

‘Bruce is our doctor in the house,’ you explained. ‘And Natasha’s omega.’

‘He’s also The Hulk. You may have heard of him,’ Sam added and you couldn’t decide if the low-key sharpness to his tone was intentional or if he was just as tired and processing as the rest of you.

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, tensing again as the double strength scent of alpha and a single omega came closer.

Nat was holding an exhausted and still bare chested Bruce under one arm, fussy alpha mode in full effect as she guided him over to a seat of his own before he could say hello. Not that he could realistically manage it so soon post-lullaby. 

Steve stood in the doorway, looking to a bristling Bucky first.

‘I appreciate that this isn’t ideal,’ he began, gesturing to the jet and the three alphas it currently housed. ‘And we’ll all do our best to be considerate but everybody here is essential to getting Y/N and your pup home safe. This is how it has to be so you’re just gonna have to deal with it.’ 

While his heckles were still unavoidably raised, heed was clearly taken of Steve’s no nonsense approach. A moment of understanding verging on growing respect passed before Bucky nodded to the other alpha. 

‘Sounds fair.’

‘Okay then,’ Steve agreed, turning to you with another relieved smile. ‘Let’s get you home.’ 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep...I'm still at it! Here's some pure fluff to lighten up your day x

Once the jet was at a steady altitude, that shower had been the first thing on your mind. 

Only snippets of sepia tinted memories may have surfaced in the three days since Bucky had found himself curling up behind you but he still felt confident that convincing his arms to let you go was the single hardest thing that he had ever done in his life. Drowning in the scents of the other two alpha’s wasn’t easing the compulsion to coil defensively around you, either. 

One of them - the woman that you had called Natasha - was bonded and fussing over her own omega which, eased his raised heckles just enough to avoid growling at her every time she passed. 

Steve, on the other hand, was another story.

_But I knew him._

The words echoed, unbidden in his brain with no context to ground them except that the voice that spoke them was his own. Yet, he knew the statement to be true. The other alpha had been a regular feature in the snapshots that his mind had chosen to reveal to him. In some he was short, scrawny and throwing waifish punches in back alleys, others he was built like a tank and tearing through pine forests in a suit of the same colours as he currently wore.

The feeling deep in his gut that he could trust this man with his life only intensified the longer that he spent in his presence. 

Trusting him around you, however, was another matter entirely.

The image of rounding that corner and seeing you in the other alpha's arms, wearing the other alpha's boots was seared onto the back of his eyelids and no matter how he tried to dissect it, Bucky felt himself torn in two distinct and conflicting directions. 

The rational part of him wanted to thank Steve for taking care of you to the tips of your toes in the face of what was - to his shame - unarguably his own failure to do so. The possessive part though, wanted nothing more than to tear Captain America’s throat out with his teeth. 

You had kicked off the boots of your own accord as soon as the ramp came up but the miasma of your scent blending with Steve’s, the way it still clung to him even a little, aggravated Bucky towards an internal hysteria that he could barely contain. His experience of the two of you together was limited to the last couple of hours at the most and in that time, Steve had shown no further sign or intention of trying to lay claim to you. That gut feeling disputed that his potential rival was just biding his time but the alpha in him wouldn’t permit Bucky to drop his guard on a whim, either. 

Taking care of _his_ omega was _his_ job and, now that he had you in his arms, he would be damned if he wouldn't defend it with every fiber of his being. 

You looked up at him with curious eyes when you tried to get out of his lap and said arms refused to move. Bucky stuttered awkwardly before finally managing a rational explanation for the clinging phenomenon.

‘If the pattern stays, you’re probably due another contraction soon. Maybe it’s worth getting that out of the way first. Don’t want you slipping in the shower or something.’ 

It was the truth if not the whole truth. From the look of the compact shower that Sam was currently prepping - after a quick discussion, it had clearly been decided that Steve's involvement in any act of care towards you may very well be the catalyst for World War Three - fitting two people in there was impossible even if you would have been prepared to let him in with you. Not that the strongly rooted if hazy-memoried knowledge that "my Ma taught me better than that" would have permitted him to be the instigator of such a turn of events, however innocently intended. Still, the idea of a locked door between you even if he could easily tear it off its hinges, was enough to threaten his sanity without throwing you feeling alone and in pain for any length of time into the mix. 

After giving that a moment's thought, you gave him a little smile and curled back into his chest. 

‘That’s a surprisingly sensible idea.’

‘”Surprisingly”, huh?’ He tried to ease his own anxiety by joking back.

Clint waving from the pilot’s seat, caught his attention.

‘Might wanna unzip that jacket a little,’ he suggested. ‘Won’t help with the pain but it'll keep Y/N much calmer when the next one hits. Just speaking from experience.’

Bucky pondered the advice as the memory of your previous reaction to his unhindered scent bubbled up to the surface. 

With great effort, he removed his flesh hand from your heat-flushed cheek and did as you had done, loosening the zip as far as the strap across his chest would allow. You went instantly boneless in the cradle of his arms, nuzzling at his scent gland with a soft hum that made his stomach flip. And the beta’s advice had been right on the money. When your next contraction emerged sooner than expected, you were infinitely calmer and recovered far better afterwards. 

Having spent the intervening time psyching himself up for the inevitable, Bucky managed to prize his fingers off of you, one by excruciating one. He helped you waddle over to the shower, diligently inspecting the inside as you got close. 

The space was designed as a small scale wet room which, he was reassured to see had not only aggressively anti-slip flooring but also a small ledge adequate for sitting on. There were small water jets distributed in two straight lines along three of the four walls interspersed with larger, speaker-like circles that he assumed must be dryers since no towel was provided and you didn’t seem in the least bit concerned by that fact. The fourth and final wall housed a small sink and a mirror large enough to account for the varying height differences of the team. It was well thought out despite it’s size, he had to admit.

‘I won’t lock the door in case...’ You began, likely trailing off with the remembrance that no conventional lock or door on earth could put up much of an argument with a vibranium wielding super soldier. ‘Never mind.’ 

You hung on to him for a moment or two longer than necessary before padding into the shower, holding his gaze as you - reluctantly, it seemed - closed the door behind you. 

Bucky stood there with no idea what to do with himself. In an attempt to busy his jittery hands - yes. Hand _s_. Plural - he unbuckled his harness and hooked it over the headrest of an unoccupied chair. It couldn’t be very comfortable to lean on, could it? No sooner had he done, the lock clicked and the door opened just a crack, a hand full of clothes poking out through the gap. 

‘Could you throw these away, please? Or maybe, like, burn them while you dance around a campfire or something?’ 

From one touch, the fabric felt rough and itchy. After God knew how long, it wasn’t surprising that you would assign them such a brutal end. 

‘I’ll get the fire going,’ he replied, the wisecrack delivered in a shaky monotone eliciting a small chuckle. It brought the twitch of a smile to his lips and he suddenly felt more at ease than he had in...he didn’t even know how long. 

Then the door huffed closed and the world was a completely different place, again. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling so out of his depth and truth be told, he did _not_ care for it.

‘Throw them in here,’ a deep voice with a following beta scent suggested. When he turned to face the person - who, like everyone else on this jet, had been instinctively filed under "intruder" despite his best efforts - it was Sam that met him. He held out a plastic garbage bag before nodding towards it when Bucky didn’t immediately comply. Once the offending excuse for clothing was tied up in the bag and discarded, Sam handed him a pile of clothes; baggy track pants, a t-shirt and a pair of rolled up socks that looked both soft and warm. 

Bucky was appeased that the only scent they carried was fabric conditioner. 

‘Just so we’re clear,’ the beta began, ‘me and you are having a talk later.’

Observing the other man intently, Bucky could only conclude that the statement wasn’t intended as a threat but rather a statement of fact. Nothing about Sam’s body language or scent indicated towards the confrontational. However, he was clearly in possession of a self-assuredness that implied he would tell Bucky to go fuck himself in a heartbeat if he deemed the alpha deserving of the sentiment. 

When this was all over and he wasn’t genetically bound to the desire to eviscerate anyone and everyone in the immediate vicinity while his omega was in labour, Bucky could see himself respecting Sam’s tenacity. Plus if he was indeed one of your best friends - and clearly the more protective of the two, at that - it was only natural that Bucky would want to know what the guy was about. 

‘You can count on it.’ 

And with that, Sam slapped him hard on the shoulder and went back to his seat. 

These friends of yours were definitely going to take some navigating.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My other half was working today so, while I had said to myself that yesterday would be the last chapter before Christmas, my plot bunnies called bullshit. They were kind enough (this time) to bring us some fluff though, bless them!
> 
> For the purpose of the exercise "Dame" = an old-school alpha term for omegas of all genders - just excuse me while I rewrite history.
> 
> Ok, this really is the last one for the holiday period now, I swear! 
> 
> A massive thank you again for the love and support that you have all been kind enough to shower me with, it has raised my spirits so much these last few weeks, I can't even tell you! For those of you celebrating, I will reiterate my earlier Christmas wishes - I hope you all have as wonderful a Christmas as you can under the circumstances and please know that I'm sending a ton of love your way ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤.
> 
> Take care my lovelies and merry Christmas (for real this time)!
> 
> x

Bucky passed the clothes that Sam had given him through the gap in the door individually once he was satisfied that the shower floor was sufficiently dry. 

There would be no slipping or soggy socks on his watch.

‘Underfloor heating,’ Bruce explained. The omega’s pallor had migrated from “at death’s door” to “feeling a bit under the weather” since Natasha had practically carried him onto the jet. The chain-offered stream of, what appeared to be, milkshakes that his alpha supplied from another built in drawer seemed to boast miraculous healing properties. However, the nutritional needs of someone else’s omega were not his concern when he had his own to worry about.

The door remained closed longer than Bucky anticipated after he had passed the socks through to you and the grunting noises that now came from within had his heart hammering anxiously in his chest. 

‘You alright in there?’ He asked, half expecting to hear a contraction strained response as he gripped the handle with his vibranium hand in readiness to tear it off, if necessary.

A long, frustrated sigh was all the response he got before the door opened. You stood in the center of the tiny wet room, a sock in each hand. 

‘Apparently, me and socks aren’t friends anymore,’ you said, elaborating when Bucky’s still creaky brain failed to make the connection between having an amicable relationship with your footwear and the ability to wear it. ‘Can’t reach.’ 

He shook his head, cursing himself as he ran his hands through his hair while the logistics of putting on socks with a very round belly sunk in. 

‘God...yeah...’course...sorry...should have thought of that.’

You gave him a reassuring smile.

‘To be fair, I didn’t think of it either until I was all...’

Hanging on to the door frame, you raised one foot a little, flailing one sock in vaguely the right direction. Bucky might have laughed had the jet not rattled precariously in the air, knocking you just off balance enough to nearly give him a heart attack. In truth, under ordinary circumstances he would have considered the disturbance a minor one but these were not ordinary circumstances by a long shot. Before he knew it he was multitasking like nobody alive, holding on to the door frame with one arm and you with the other whilst giving Clint the full force of his murder stare.

'Epic Dad save,' Sam nodded, something close to approvingly before Clint's profuse apologies began. 

‘Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Hit a little unexpected turbulence going through that cloud. We’re out now. Scout’s honour.’ 

Scout’s honour meant exactly shit to Bucky right now but one glance out of the window up front showed clear blue skies and his own eyes were a trustworthy enough source to dissuade him from growling at the thus far invaluable beta. ‘Y’alright back there Y/N?’

‘I’m good.’ 

The response was a low exhalation against the curve of Bucky's throat. While he had no clear memory of the sensation that erupted beneath his skin, he knew to call it _goosebumps_. 

With his breath caught in his throat, he turned back to you. 

It wasn’t unlike the closeness of holding you in his lap, your body against his, your breath on his neck, the rich scent of you intoxicatingly strong in his nose but somehow the positional difference, holding you face to face with his arm curled around you waist inexplicably transformed the energy between you. The cocktail of emotions that rose up in him felt oddly nostalgic, like arriving at an unfamiliar path only to find that your feet knew exactly where they were going. It felt like a memory of a visceral sort, a soundless, thoughtless knowledge that, once upon a time, he had stood in many a doorway with many a _Dame_ and not once had it felt anything like this. You met his gaze with almost dreamy eyes and somehow he knew to accept it as a compliment rather than a cause for concern. With noses almost touching, it was as though muscle memory urged him to lean in closer and acquaint your lips with his. However, something held him back, another gut felt addition to the growing list of things that “my Ma taught me better than” and that doing so when you were in a scared an vulnerable state would be something that this Ma, who he barely remembered but would feel pained to disappoint, would smack him upside the head for. 

Bucky pulled back just enough to remove himself from the path of temptation.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ 

For a moment your eyes went wide, then you retreated to an arms distance.

‘Uh...yeah...I’m -’

Surprise rocked your features as your hands gripped his jacket tighter. ‘Spoke too soon,’ you groaned as the pain of another early contraction over took you. However, Bucky, now accustomed to the nature of the enemy, had you in his arms before you had been able to speak the first word.

Setting himself down in the nearest seat, he curled you up into his lap again, guiding your head into the crook of his neck as the more experienced Clint had suggested. 

‘It’s okay,’ he whispered in your ear as you sobbed some exceptionally colourful language against his bare skin. ‘I got you, ‘Mega. I got you.’ 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy It's Not 2020 Anymore!!!!!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and for all the comments over Christmas! I'm so happy that you're all enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it and I promise to get back to you all individually soon! 😘
> 
> This one is all fluff plus some more labour pains (I'm so sorry for putting you through this😅), mentions of medical examinations, some fluffy if insecure Bucko and a touch of perfectly understandable cursing.
> 
> Enjoy!

Bucky felt you still in his arms as the slew of curses came to an end and the most intense contraction yet subsided. 

It had to be close to three hours since he had found you and your friends in the base and you had spent the majority of the intervening time clinging to him like a baby koala. Granted, you might have been throwing the het up alpha a bone with the two other alphas in such close proximity but still, when you had said that having Bucky with you helped you had seemed to mean it. In stark contrast to that heart melting moment your grip on his collar loosened, your head dropped to rest on his chest rather than seeking out his scent gland and the weight of your limbs shifted in such a way that it was difficult to put words to it. His best effort at interpretation left him designating the change as a tense slump, however, his brain felt too overwhelmed to extrapolate anything further.

Thankfully, his initial concern that you may be losing consciousness, that something was medically wrong was quieted as your fingers began to fiddle with the cord that dangled from the waist of your borrowed sweats. 

You were exhausted, in pain and likely severely traumatised. Though, once again he had no concrete knowledge to back up the hypothesis, it still seemed logical that retreating into yourself may be a very normal reaction under the circumstances. However, the unshakable intuition that an emotional wall had suddenly been erected between you left a sharp and unnerving taste in his mouth.

In the corner of his eye he could see Sam watching you with skillfully contained speculation. As much as his alpha pride might prickle at the knowledge that the other man knew you better than he did, that Sam had also picked up on it was oddly reassuring. At least it was something by way of confirmation that despite Bucky's shaky recollections and non-existent frame of reference for how to handle his newfound responsibilities, he was learning to read you enough to know that something was up. 

If nothing else, it was a step in the right direction.

Knowing what to do about it though, was something else.

In three days he had gone from simply _The Asset_ to _Bucky Barnes. Former soldier. Best friend. Possessive alpha and Father-to-be_ in one fell swoop _._

The more memories began to surface, the more it became clear that being The Asset was by no means a good thing. The guilt that accompanied the blood-stained flashes that floated up from the depths could be considered proof enough of that. Yet, he couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that felt at a loss without such clear parameters. The programming...no, not programming...the _experience_ relevant to navigating this situation pre-dated that which Hydra had given him and, with so much of it corrupted, incomplete or inaccessible he felt like he was fumbling around in the dark and trying to lead you with him when he didn’t even know how to lead himself. 

Wasn’t that how this worked? 

Wasn’t it _his_ role to be your anchor, your protector, your source of safety and reassurance?

He couldn’t say that he’d done such a great job of that so far but he wanted you to know that he gave a damn enough to try his best. 

Bucky pulled back to look down at you but was greeted only by the top of your head. He waited for a moment hoping that you would meet his gaze as you had before, perhaps in the selfish hope that you would make it easy on him and give him some tangible intel to work with, if only just a look in your eye or the set of your mouth. 

You showed no sign of budging. 

Resting a tentatively crooked finger beneath your chin, he traced the line of your jaw while he tried to find a way forward. Intending to gently steer you towards opening up to him, he wet his lips to say...he wasnt even sure what yet. However, by accident or design - he would be lying if he said that he could tell which - you derailed his, no doubt lacking, efforts.

'I need to practice not cursing so badly, don’t I?' You said, voice more assured than he would have expected.

'Pup can't hear you yet. Get it all out while you can,' Clint advised from up front.

'Actually, it's Steve I was worried about.'

And just like that the jet erupted from somber silence in to riotous hysterics. 

Sam collapsed across two seats, holding his sides as he failed to contain his laughter. Bucky couldn’t see Natasha and Bruce who had taken up the seats behind him but he could hear them cackling away with a zeal that he hadn’t anticipated from the serious redhead and the physically drained doctor. And as far as Clint was concerned, it was astounding that he could fly straight with how hard he was giggling between wordless exclamations. Even Steve succumbed to an equally raucous outburst despite blushing profusely.

'C’mon, I said it one time!'

The sudden burst of hilarity that you had created seemed to lift the tension from more than a few sagging pairs of shoulders which, truth be told, was everybody's.

'And they're back,' Sam announced, leaning over for a high five which you instantly reciprocated, his best-friendly concerns apparently allayed, for the time being at least.

When your own subdued laughter had died down you finally looked up to Bucky.

'Steve told us all off for swearing on a mission once and we can't let him live it down. Isn't that right, Old Timer?'

'In our day, people respected their elders,' Steve shot back in mock offence, prompting yet more snorting and tittering among the gathered Avengers. Bucky could only assume that the "our" in Steve's statement included him but he would have to take the other alpha's word for the past state of affairs regarding the treatment of the elderly.

When Bucky looked down at you again as another wave of leg pulling erupted from all sides, a smile tugged at one corner of your mouth though, you still didn't make eye contact for more than the briefest moment. After that, trying to get to the bottom of what was was really going on was basically impossible between the noise and how the banter that you had begun commanded your attention.

Okay.

He would let it lie for now but that conversation, though as yet unstarted, wasn't over and the seemingly resigned sigh as you slumped back against his chest felt telling that you had somehow heard the unspoken promise loud and clear. You didn’t seem to put up an argument on even the energetic level though, and he chose to take that as a promising sign.

Before long several sub-conversations began to emerge. Steve and Clint were discussing Tony but apart from being that-guy-in-the-suit-who-you-had-waved-at-that-time, Bucky had no information to provide any context as to why his credit card usage should be cause for concern or why he would need to be "careful that he doesn't overstep" when he got back. Behind him, Natasha was back to fussing over Bruce and though he still sounded pretty ropy, the omega was apparently feeling well enough to put up some resistance to his mate’s pampering.

'Baby, of course you can handle it. But you're exhausted and I'm always going to worry about you. That's my job,' Natahsa was saying, the sentiment painfully relatable.

Bruce seemed appeased enough by that response if all the purring was anything to go by but at that point Bucky actively began filtering their conversation out as best as he could. Sure, he might not trust everybody here quite yet but you did and he figured that if he wanted to encourage your trust in him then perhaps he would have to show some first. The suspicious alpha in him was none too happy with that logic, however, Natasha had been the only one to raise her weapon as the trigger words had done their work. He was in no doubt that had he transformed in to The Winter Soldier and put you in danger then she would have taken the shot, no questions asked and that was good enough for him. 

Then there was you and Sam.

The rapport between you was obvious, the conversation all relaxed sarcasm and easy laughs. While Sam showed no overt signs of tension, he was clearly making an effort to keep a respectful distance for Bucky's benefit and that didn’t go unappreciated. While the way he made you smile with a few dumb jokes and an update on what was going on with the people back home gave the possessive side of Bucky more than enough to chew his lip over, he was also painfully aware that it wasn’t your fault that your alpha didn’t know how to give you the lighthearted interlude that you clearly needed. Following a shower and a fresh change of clothes, the only scent that clung to you now was Bucky’s and, as a result, his hormone driven insanity had abated just enough to allow him to lay the law down with himself. 

_Unless you can do any better, sit down and shut the fuck up!_

Apparently, even knot headed alpha mode couldn’t argue with that.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Bruce interjected, breaking up the fresh banter marathon that you and Sam had embarked upon. He had changed out of the shredded pants into a pair of sweats similar to yours, making use of the clean shirt to wipe his glasses before setting them on his nose. ‘I’m sorry it took me so long to come around but since this is kind of important, I wouldn’t want to make any silly mistakes.’

Bucky’s alpha tried to pipe up with a menacing; “no, you wouldn’t”, but he managed to swallow it down.

Just.

Bruce took you both in for a moment before he spoke, again.

‘We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Bruce Banner,’ he said to Bucky before conspiratorially addressing you. ‘You gonna kill me if I try to shake his hand?’ 

You seemed to play at thinking, however, your scent simmered at the idea just enough to suggest that you weren’t feeling entirely remiss about the whole thing. 

‘I’ll let you off just this once,’ you responded, your hand returning to it’s former grip on Bucky’s collar. A sensation that he could only describe as a little jolt of a thrill shot through him and he couldn’t say that he was quite so successful at suppressing the resulting purr that built in the back of his throat.

Bruce just smiled and held his hand out, waiting patiently for Bucky to prize his own off of you and take it. 

‘I know there’s not a lot by way of options, right now,’ the doctor continued, his full attention on you, ’but would you feel okay with me examining you to see how that pup of yours is doing? We’ve been friends a long time, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’

‘I’m okay with that,’ you replied without even thinking about it. ‘It’s not like we don’t already share a locker room or haven’t been to that spa a bunch of times.’

‘True but I had to ask.’

‘Spa?’ 

For some reason, Bucky hadn’t had you down as the spa type though, in all fairness, it wasn’t like he could have vocalised what “the spa type” looked like if one reared up and bit him in the ass. 

You lifted your head to answer, your breath tickling over his cheek as you explained. 

‘New York has an omega-only spa and every Christmas, Nat gets Bruce a day pass. He always takes me as his fuck, _fuck, FUCK_!’

Your grip on Bucky tightened like never before, your teeth tearing into the leather of his collar as the contraction refused to let up for far longer than any of the previous ones. 

Bruce was crouching to your level in an instant, though was careful to not to come any closer which, was a wise choice with Bucky once again curling protectively around you. 

‘Everything’s gonna be okay, honey, just breathe,’ Bruce reassured you before leaving that job to Bucky and addressing the room. ‘Has anybody been timing these?’

It was Sam who replied.

‘Last few have been about eight minutes between, that one was six and a half.’

Bruce hesitated briefly, he would have done a good job of hiding it too had his scent not spiked a little towards the anxious. 

‘Clint, how long ‘til we’re back in New York?’

‘If all we see are clear skies...another four hours.’ 

The statement hung in the air as doctor and experience father shared a paling look. 

Bucky’s heart was pounding in his chest and he only hoped that you were still too busy recovering to notice the shift in atmosphere as Bruce turned back to the pair of you. 

The doctor met Bucky eye to eye, his tone more composed than the rising numbers on the heart monitor around his wrist seemed to agree with.

‘Everything’s gonna be fine.’ 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, my lovelies! 
> 
> It's really good to be back after the Christmas break and hearing from you all again. As always, THANK YOU for reading and commenting on what was initially supposed to be a much smaller story but has turned into a right beast somewhere along the way - I'm not even sure how many more chapters this is going to take but I feel like I'm just scratching the surface, right now! 
> 
> Now, today's chapter is kind of angsty. There is talk of potential complications, worst case scenarios and a smidge of mortality facing plus medical examinations (but largely implied) as the big event looms ever closer. However, there is also some super fluff, more protective Bucky (cus I know you guys are all about that 😉) and the team being little legends!
> 
> Note that as I am yet to do the whole labour thing, I have done only enough research so as to not scare myself shitless (nl!!) so, any inaccuracies or mistakes are entirely my own. Also Bruce's (my) "science" is 99.9% bull, I'm just flat out making shit up here.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Much love x

The team hustled in a way that only those accustomed to militarised operations could. In under a minute they had the back of the jet set up like a makeshift cubical. Natasha laid out a stack of Bruce’s back-up shirts on the floor for you to lie on which, though not ideal, would at least stop you from getting too cold. Sam turned all the seats to face away from you so as to avoid any accidentally incurred breaches of your dignity. Hanging the space blankets that Steve handed him to cover the gaps in between was, however, a good call with Bucky still unable to promise in good conscience that eyeballs wouldn’t be lost should such an infraction occur. Clint kept his eye on the skies whilst directing Sam as he positioned the silver sheets to eradicate all lines of sight that were reflected in the window. Steve, still reluctant to be involved directly in any caring act towards you lest he unwittingly trigger knot-headed alpha mode again, went in search of Bruce’s medical kit and brought everything that the doctor specified. 

Bruce remained with you and began the checks that he was able administer with you seated in Bucky’s lap. He took your pulse, listened to the heart rate of you and your pup. When he was done, he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead before asking Steve to pass him the thermometer out of his bag. He gave it a best of three, all the time asking you questions about the pregnancy so far:

How many weeks? 

Had there been any problems? 

When was the last time you felt the pup move?

Were you given any medication? 

Had the doctors shared the results of your daily tests? 

He then rattled off a list of “have you ever had” symptoms, illnesses and procedures, eliciting simple yes or no answers and asking you to elaborate when necessary. By the time they got you laid down and the rest of the team on the other side of the makeshift blockade, Bucky knew your medical history better than he knew his own. 

‘So, tell me about this spa?’ He asked once you were properly situated. 

You gave him a knowing smirk as you took him in at length. He sat cross legged on the floor beside you, facing away from what Sam had called “the business end” of things as he traced circles on the palm of the one hand that he hadn’t managed to persuade himself to let go of.

‘I see you are a man of subtlety,’ you teased, groaning slightly as Bruce helped to maneuver you into position though, you assured all anxious parties present that you were fine. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate the glaringly obvious attempts at distraction.’

‘Got me all figured out, huh?’ 

That stillness that he had felt before came over you again, the smart-ass confidence giving way to something more awkward and unsure, blighting your scent with low-level anxiety. Bucky might not be sure how he had managed to push you from A to B with what had felt like an innocuous statement but he could kick himself all the same. Now definitely wasn’t the time to try to rekindle the embers of the discussion that he had almost started before so, he went with the safer option. ‘Tell me about it,’ he gently urged.

If you had been helping Steve search for him for a few years then you had to know more about him than he did about you. If he planned on correcting that then your festive spa experiences with one of your friends was as good a place as any to start.

It took you a while to get into your groove between whatever lingering discomfort that he had unwittingly managed to facilitate and yet another increasingly severe contraction. Sam called five and a half minutes for that one. However, you slowly began to loosen up as Bruce laughed along with you about how the massage that had been included last time was so hardcore that the pair of you had come out with more bruises than you had fighting the alien invasion. 

‘I’m sorry, _aliens_?’ Bucky exclaimed, convinced that he was going to be made fun of for being too gullible but you just squeezed his hand.

‘Yeah, you’ve got some stuff to catch up on.’

The snap of Bruce pulling the disposable gloves from his hands indicated that he was done with his investigations. ‘So, are you guys going to keep stinking up the place hoping I don’t notice or is one of you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about?’ 

Bucky heard Sam chuckling behind the silver curtain that he had rigged. Bruce just hung his head for a moment, torn between the misgivings that he couldn’t now deny and amusement at being so bluntly outed. You looked up at Bucky until it became clear to you that, though he knew something was amiss he was as in the dark as you were in terms of hard facts. So, turning back to your friend and now doctor, you fixed Bruce with a stare that said you weren’t about to fobbed off with platitudes no matter how well intended. ‘Bruce?’

For a moment, he looked to Bucky, most likely contemplating his chances of survival if what he had to say upset you too much. ‘Bruce,’ you pushed. 'Give it to me straight.’

Okay,’ he replied, tip-toeing carefully. ‘For the most part everything’s normal but things are progressing faster than I would normally expect for a first pup. Sometimes this happens, sometimes the contractions stop for a while before starting up again. Labour’s not necessarily a linear thing or an exact science so, on it’s own it’s nothing to worry about.’ 

The tension in the room was palpable as Bruce continued. You listened intently to his every word and while your expression appeared unaffected you seemed to be squeezing Bucky’s hand harder than you realised. ‘You are running a slight fever which, is something else that can just happens on occasion and may go down on it’s own. However, there is a chance - a _small_ chance - but a chance that a fever could be a sign of an underlying complication.’ 

‘If this pup was supposed to be the beginnings of Hydra’s new super soldier army,’ Bucky shook his head as he thought out loud, ‘then there's no chance that they would have taken any unnecessary risks. They would have eliminated as many complications as they could.’

The way that the atmosphere shifted made Bucky’s stomach turn.

With a light squeeze of his hand you drew his attention back to you. 

‘I think what Bruce is worried about is that Hydra’s solution to the complications that they could foresee might have been to sacrifice me.’ 

Despite the calm certainty that seemed to wash over you, your eyes were glossy with suppressed tears. ‘That about the long and short of it, Bruce?’

Bruce couldn’t seem to bring himself to confirm or deny your assessment. 

For a moment the world around Bucky felt more like a one of his random flashes of memory, not entirely real and fuzzy around the edges for all its vivid tangibility. The urge to jump out of that jet right then and hunt down every last one of the bastards until he had killed them all with his bare hands was a strong one. However, going on a murder spree wasn’t going to undo what they had done, it wouldn’t help your chances or your pup’s and, luckily for Hydra, he had his priorities well in order. 

Bucky turned a piercing glare in the doctor’s direction. 

‘That is _not_ going to happen.’ 

Bucky could scent Natasha’s adrenaline spiking as he addressed Bruce but she needn’t have feared for her omega. He held Bucky’s gaze with a quiet and unassuming composure akin to a trickle of water capable of wearing down a mountain. 

‘No, it’s not,’ he agreed. ‘And whatever happens, we’re resourceful and we will do anything necessary to get you all through this. I want to stress that everything could be fine and we might not hit any complications at all but without knowing what Hydra did, I can’t say that I wouldn’t feel better delivering your pup in a better equipped facility -’ 

‘Wait...’ Bucky cut him off, rummaging through his pockets in a fit of frantic energy. When he had found the right one, he snatched up it’s contents and thrust it in Bruce’s direction. 

A thumb drive. ‘I pulled everything I could find on Y/N from the bases central mainframe when I came back to extract them.’

With things going so sideways and every inch of his thoughts taken up with your immediate needs, the drive and it’s contents had fallen to the back of his mind. Conscious of you looking curiously up at him, he turned back to his omega. ‘I had a plan.’ 

The glassy sheen in your eyes spilled over, the raw emotion that had been threatening to force its way through the cracks throughout the discussion beginning to breach whatever confines you had managed to maintain thus far. 

This time it was him squeezing your hand. ‘That’ll help, right?’ He prompted Bruce who, took the drive from Bucky’s outstretched hand. 

‘Yeah...probably...I’ll need to go over the data. I think might be able to buy us some time but you should know it's...experimental.’

‘What the plan?’ You asked. 

‘There’s something that me and Tony have been developing from some of the alien tech that we dug up after New York. It slows down the body’s processes enough to induce a kind of stasis response -’

‘You want to put my omega and my pup in cryo, is that what your telling me?’ Bucky near barked, the response eliciting a low growl from the other side of the hastily built partition. 

‘I sympathise with what you going through but you might wanna watch that tone around my omega, Barnes,’ Natasha warned.

The look that you gave him - a simultaneous plea and understanding admonishment - also served as a reminder that yelling at your well-meaning and equally worried friends wasn’t going to help.

‘Sorry,’ he said to Bruce who seemed the most unaffected by the alpha’s reaction out of everyone, even if it had been directed at him.

He gave Bucky an accepting nod before continuing. 

‘It’s not like cryo. This technology’s completely non-invasive. It works with the bodies natural bio-electric signals and...’ Bruce paused a moment, deep in thought.

‘He does that when he’s trying to translate the science-eze into normal people words,’ you explained, filling the silence. He felt reassured that even with all the alarming talk that had transpired, you weren’t as frightened as he had worried that you might be. 

Clint was right to call you Trooper. 

‘It basically tricks the body into thinking it needs to hibernate,’ Bruce continued pulling a small box from his med-bag. When he opened it, two rows of three coin-sized disks were nestled into a layer of black foam with a perfectly cut bed for each. 

‘They look like Nat’s electro-shock things,’ you observed, pulling one out and inspecting it. 

‘We retrofitted them to accommodate the alien tech. Just stick one on each temple and you’ll be having the nap of your life.’ 

‘You sure it’s safe?’ The question was Bucky’s.

Bruce paused. 

‘They’ve been thoroughly tested and we’ve been using them in the field for months. They basically saved Clint’s life when a Hydra agent slashed his femoral artery a couple of months ago and we couldn’t slow the bleeding in time to get him in surgery.’ 

‘Five out of five. Would definitely recommend,’ Clint cut in, shooting you all a thumbs up. 

‘Having said that, it’s also true to say that we’ve never had cause to test them on pregnant omega. From the data we have I can’t foresee it being a problem but whatever we do here, we have no guarantees.’ 

‘If we do nothing - _FUUUUUCK!_ ’ 

The contractions were seriously picking up pace in timing and intensity, that one hitting in under five minutes and lasting almost twice as long as the one before it. 

Bucky slid onto his side and, with one arm resting behind your head and the other wrapped over your shoulders, he tried to create a bubble of scent to calm you. You grabbed on to his jacked and buried your face in his neck, gasping as through drowning until the pain settled and dissipated. Releasing him only enough that he could straighten up and take you in, you heaved in a few slow, deep breaths before meeting his gaze. 

Now you looked scared.

Really scared.

You didn’t even dare look away from him as you spoke to your friend. 

‘Bruce, if it keeps speeding up like this how long do you think we’ve got before Pupper decides to join us?’ 

‘It’s not a simple calculation with a definite outcome -’

‘Bruce!’

The doctor sighed, thoughtful.

‘Maybe an hour. Two hours, tops.’

This time taking what seemed more like a deep breath to steel yourself, you held Bucky’s gaze firmly enough for him to know beyond doubt that there was going to be no arguing with whatever decision you had made.

‘Do it,’ you said, handing the device back to Bruce. ‘Put me to sleep.’

Bucky felt his jaw clenching, his eyes scrunching closed in helpless frustration. Both paths were equally fraught with danger and uncertainty but for lack of a third option, what could he do that would tip the odds for the better in either direction? 

Nothing. 

He had nothing. 'I know that I probably don't need to put words to this,' you were saying, 'but if you have to choose...'

Reminding himself of that commitment that he had made, the trust that he had resolved to give before he could expect to be worthy of it’s return, he opened his eyes and made sure they held yours as he spoke. You had made a decision and he would respect that but there was no way in hell that he was going to lay there and promise to let you die.

‘I won’t let anything happen to you. _Either_ of you. Do you hear me, omega?’ 

The tears were running thick and fast now, gliding down you cheeks towards the call of gravity. However, there was more warmth there than he had been convinced that he would ever see reflected back at him, all hints of those recently built walls gone. 

You gave his chin a playful bump with your fist, your smile anything but forced despite your apprehension.

‘I hear you, alpha.’ 

And that show of faith gave him just enough strength to turn back to Bruce and quell every emotion that would betray how much he felt like he was falling apart at the seams, at least for as long as your waking eyes were on him.

‘Okay. Let’s do this.’ 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this and they're home and, you know what that means 😉 
> 
> Today we have some fluff, some silliness and some angst. There's also similar themes to the last chapter including mild, non-graphic medical stuff and some pondering of worst case scenarios plus a smidge of post traumatic stress and flashbacks but nothing too serious, though. 
> 
> Enjoy!

‘It’s okay, just lie me down.’

‘Not happening. You’ll get cold.’

‘Then I’ll just go and crash in another chair.’

‘You’ll sleep funny and wake up with a crick in your neck. No.’

‘I’m going to be out for hours.’

‘That’s the idea.’

‘Your legs will go to sleep!’

‘I guess they’ll just have to go to sleep then, won’t they?’

‘But -’

‘Sweety,’ Natasha interjected from the seat opposite. ‘We’re stuck in this tin can until we get back to New York and I think we’d all appreciate it if you just let him have this one.’

A muffled chorus of chuckles cut through what was left of the earlier tension. 

As soon as the decision to trust in Bruce’s potential miracle gadget had been made and you were dressed, Bucky had scooped you off of the floor and reinstated you in his lap. Your protests had come almost immediately, however, he wasn’t sure that he could have let you go again if he tried, even if you hadn’t been clinging onto him more fiercely than before despite your impassioned arguments. God only knew - well, Natasha seemed to have an idea - what kind of nightmare alpha your friends would have to deal with if you were anywhere but in his arms for the remainder of the flight. 

'Hey, the movies say that alphas are supposed to be wrapped around the omega's little finger,' you hammed the grumble impressively. 'I've been mislead. I should sue.’

'Alphas, huh?' Bucky playfully enquired, 'who else have I gotta fight off?'

While on the inside he was still crawling the walls with worry - and from the undertones filling the jet, he wasn’t alone in that - the tightly coiled spring that he hadn’t realised was there had loosened in his chest. For the first time that he could remember, including all the flashes and snippets of times long before, he felt like he could truly breathe, like the heavy body of his Winter Soldier shell had fallen away and taken a few more layers along with it. 

_I hear you, alpha._

Technically, it wasn’t the first time the title had fallen from your lips but there was a world of difference between things spoken on the edge of consciousness and those freely chosen. It was a contentment surpassing that of before, beyond a feeling of being in the right place, at the right time, with the right person. There was a whole life on the other side of those four accepting words, a life where he could be calm and playful and hold enough space around you so that you could do the same. With the purr that his comment had nurtured, a quiet little gift that only he could hear, he allowed himself to feel that perhaps he wasn’t doing such a terrible job after all. 

'Yeah, well those movies also say that we only ever meet by accidentally throwing coffee on each other,' Natasha said, the roll of her eyes more vocal than physical.

'And that the beta love interest _always_ dies!' Clint complained, Sam following with an:

'Ain't that the truth.'

'And that fairy godmegas are real,' was Steve's dead pan contribution.

'Fairy godmegas are real, you heathen,' Bruce butted in as he attached a line and oxygen mask to the tank that he and Sam had secured to the side of the chair that you both occupied.

'There’s no scientific evidence to support that,’ Natasha replied, her own caricature of seriousness focussed on her omega. 

Sam was quick to jump at the spy’s transgression.

'The evidence is that Bruce _is_ science and he says so!'

The uproar that the statement caused was both raucous and deafening.

Without warning, a bubble that Bucky now recognised as a surfacing memory burst against the movie screen of his mind.

Thick pine forests.

Cool evening breezes. 

Blue uniforms huddled around campfires. 

That same laughter filling the air that spanned a continent.

The adrenaline of terrible situations and insurmountable odds channelled into euphoric relief. 

The parallel was oddly grounding, comforting even. Perhaps that was just how soldiers got by, whatever century they were from or in.

Apparently satisfied with the equipment, Bruce walked around the chair to face you, oxygen mask in hand. Bucky felt your fists grip his jacket a little tighter and he couldn’t help but squeeze back, hoping that the anxiety curdling in his gut wasn’t reeking too much havoc with his scent when it was integral to keeping you calm. 

‘You sure you wanna do this?’ Bruce asked. 

You nodded, expression apprehensive edged with that dogged determined that Bucky was learning to associate with you. Giving you an affectionately acknowledging smile, Bruce continued in his calming tone. ‘This isn’t going to be a complete stasis like Clint experienced. I’ve recalibrated the devices so that you’ll be unconscious and your muscles will effectively be paralysed but your organs like your heart and lungs will still work as normal. That way we can guarantee that if your pup doesn’t go into stasis along with you then they’ll still have a normal blood supply. You with me so far?’

You both nodded. ‘Now, there is a chance that the pup could go into a partial stasis which could obstruct the flow of blood between you but don’t worry. I did the math and we can compensate for it by keeping your oxygen levels high so, I’m going to need you to keep this oxygen mask on until we get you home and fully conscious again, okay?’

He waited for another nod from both of you before continuing.

‘We’re gonna take you down slow so that if we hit any problems we can stop. If all goes well and you go fully under, we’ll closely monitor your vitals and if anything happens we'll bring you back and, trust me, we will deal with whatever we have to.'

'Well, if I can't trust the living embodiment of science, who can I trust?'

Another wave of laughter broke the, once again, growing tension but Bruce's demeanour only turned more serious.

'You sure you're still feeling alright with this?’

Your answer was to simply hold your hand out for the oxygen mask. ‘Okay then.’

Once he had it fixed comfortably on your face, Bruce pressed one of the disks that he had shown you earlier to each of your temples. ‘Now, count backwards from a hundred for me. Anything feels weird, you just let me know. I’ll be right here.’

‘Thanks, Bruce,’ you said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. The other omega gave you a glossy eyed smile and the care that Bucky saw there left him feeling nothing but grateful that you had such a strong and supportive set of friends.

‘Sleep well, honey. I’ll be here when you wake up.’

Then he backed away and turned to the readouts on his laptop, clearly trying to give the two of you some space. The rest of the team followed suit, either sitting quietly and trying to avert their attention or sharing hushed, if strained conversation.

‘One hundred...ninety-nine...ninety-eight...ninety-seven...’

As you counted down, you unconsciously curled into Bucky as much as you physically could and he moulded himself around you long before he realised what he was doing. For a while nothing seemed to be happening then somewhere around the high sixties the gaps between numbers began to lengthen, your words to slur. The biting tang of stress began to flood your scent, your breath clouding the mask more erratically.

Bucky turned to Bruce. The doctor looked up from the screen in front of him and nodded back, confirming that the cause of your distress was emotional rather than medical.

‘Hey, hey, look at me,’ Bucky instructed and you immediately searched out his gaze. ‘Everything’s going to be fine. Okay? I promise.’ 

Drooping eyes looked back at him, hazy, watery Y/E/C orbs that clearly wanted to believe a promise that perhaps he had no right to make. ‘When this all over,’ he continued, 'and we’ve got our pup in our arms, I’m gonna spoil you both rotten, you know that?’ 

You managed a drunken huff of a laugh, warmth now outweighing the fear even if just by a little. 

‘Everybody thinks....you’re so...scary...’ you said, fingers playing clumsily with a strand of his hair where it met his collar. ‘But you’re...just a big old...teddy bear....aren’t you?’

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

Could he be a big old teddy bear when he could almost feel the blood on his hands even if he didn't remember where it all came from? 

He pushed the thought away and put his focus where it really needed to be. 

‘All that time you were in there...what did you miss the most? Whatever you want. When we get home, you got it.’

You blinked in slow motion, thought even slower. Lips beyond counting, the wide savouring smile took an age to dimple your cheeks. 

‘Caff...ine,’ you replied.

Bucky smiled at the simple request and filed it away as one more little thing that he could say that he knew about his omega.

‘I’m on it.’

You blinked again. 

Once.

Twice. 

Slower. 

And slower.

‘What...num...ber..was...I...?’

Then they just stayed closed.

The silence that followed, punctuated by nothing but the hiss of the oxygen tank was painful. 

You were breathing, the heartbeat in your neck steady against his flesh palm but no sign of even your sleeping personality that he had met fidgeting beneath the bedsheets in the Hydra base shone through. The loss of your energy alone felt like being slashed from pelvis to sternum and hollowed with a dull edged spoon and now that he had nobody to keep a brave face on for, the gravity of the situation began to truly sink in.

What would he do if you didn’t wake up again?

What if she didn't and he never even got to meet her?

What happened if he lost both of you and there was nothing he could do to stop it any more than he could stop falling...No.

Watching falling.

Reaching towards it.

World spinning.

Heart in his mouth.

Choking on pink.

‘They’re stable.’

Bruce's daring hand resting on his shoulder pulled Bucky out of somewhere that he hadn't realised he had gone. The omega's voice was both sympathetic and authoritative. ‘Try and get some rest. They’re gonna need you when we get home.’ 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back again, my lovelies!
> 
> I hope you're ready for some fluff and drama both! In this chapter there is a smidge of angst and some PTSD symptoms (hypervigilance) but nothing major.
> 
> Enjoy!

Nobody spoke for a solid hour.

The rush of air around the jet, the hissing oxygen tank and the rhythmic click of the keyboard as Bruce dissected the data on the thumb drive that Bucky had given him took up residence in his ears, hitting everything home all over again.

It was all well and good saying get some rest but how was he supposed to allow himself to let go of his hold on consciousness when his whole world could fall apart in the blink of an eye?

How was he supposed to protect you from the other side of his dreams?

Over the course of the flight he may have settled to the idea that the space around you was populated by friends rather than enemies but there were a million and one other threatening or dangerous happenings, incidents and, variables that could rise up and snatch away everything that mattered.

There was no way in hell that he was just going to close his eyes and wait for it to sneak up on him. 

So, he sat there with one eye on you and another on everything else; watching, listening, anticipating. Every bank the jet made, every rise and fall of your chest, every creak in the sheet metal floor that Steve’s now booted feet created went observed and documented.

Nothing would catch him off guard. 

However, his watchful vigil wasn’t enough to stop his brain from grinding at a rate of knots. With the shedding of his Winter Soldier skin, little memories, feelings and knowings beyond rational explanation came flooding in and Steve anchored almost all of them. He had nothing close to a linear narrative yet and maybe he never would but there was enough there to piece together that the other man was more a brother than a friend.

A growing reservoir of guilt pooled in his stomach. 

Bucky couldn’t promise that if he found you in the alpha’s arms again he wouldn’t lose his mind, however, hearing you accept him as your alpha in front of your friends quelled his ferally aggressive tendencies enough to give him a little more perspective on the matter. 

Steve had been trying to help, trying to take care of his friend in their alpha’s absence to do so and, biology or not, Bucky wasn’t off the hook for being a complete asshole towards him. He owed Natasha an apology too but with Bruce not yet fully recovered either, she was thoroughly preoccupied herself so, that one would have to wait.

Watching - who was hopefully still - his oldest friend pacing the small space, Bucky tried to find the words but he had no idea how to begin. In the end he settled for extending an olive branch in the form of addressing Steve’s unanswered question, even if it was several hours overdue. 

‘Your mom’s name was Sarah,’ he said as Steve passed. ‘You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.’

Steve froze mid-step, turning slowly to face Bucky as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had heard. The subtle tells of a deep solace brightening his features confirmed that he had understood Bucky’s intention. 

‘You can’t read that in a museum.’

Sam shuffled in his seat. For a moment he looked like he was about to say something before biting his lip and looking away. The scents filling the cabin were so mixed up by now that Bucky couldn’t decide if that which he now recognised as Sam’s stress tone was fresh or just old particles hitting him as they were recycled by the ventilation system. Perhaps it was the latter since Steve seemed oblivious to it. 

Taking up the seat opposite that Natasha had vacated to be closer to Bruce, Steve leaned forward on his knees and observed Bucky very carefully. ‘The co-ordinates, the intel telling us how to get into the base...that was you wasn’t it?’ 

That was barely twenty-four hours ago but it felt like a lifetime. After a long thoughtful moment, Bucky nodded. ‘Why not just tell us?’

The question betrayed only the desire to have been more useful than a judgement. 

Typical Steve.

‘Couldn’t afford anybody tracing it back to me. If anything went wrong and neither of us couldn’t get them out, I had to pretend I knew nothing about it. If Hydra thought I was anything but the Winter Soldier, they would’ve wiped me, maybe moved them to separate location. Then I might have never found them, again. I couldn’t take the risk.’

‘So, you needed a contingency. Or a distraction.’

‘A little of both,’ Bucky confessed.

‘And if you had gotten to Y/N first?’

A long silence rocked the spirit of transparency, however, there was still a small part of him that couldn’t shake the fearful knowledge that Hydra may still come looking for all three of you. There was no sense in showing the only card that he had left up his sleeve if there was any chance that the world could still burn.

‘I had a plan,’ he repeated. 

Sam fixed him with a speculative gaze.

‘And for all that planning, you couldn’t have given us more of a heads up?’ He asked gesturing to you and the precarious state that you were now in. 

‘I was in cryo until three days ago. Don’t know for how long.’

‘I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark and say something in the region of just under nine months,’ Clint said.

‘Not necessarily in this case,’ Bruce answered.

‘What have you got?’ 

Steve gestured to Bruce’s laptop and the stolen data that it now contained. 

‘From here? Nothing concrete, yet. Hydra really need to work on their filing system but I am making headway. This data is all in my head.'

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I cleared Sam and Y/N for active duty the day you all took off to Austria. No omega in their right mind would risk going out into the field without knowing that their suppressants were topped up so, I administered them the day before. Y/N always took the strongest ones available and that shot is ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine - and so on - percent effective of delaying heats for four months. Now, if they’ve carried the pup to term which, from everything that they’ve told me it seems that they have, then that would put the conception date right in the middle of that four month window. With the strength of those suppressants, they couldn’t have gone into heat and there's nothing that Hydra or anybody else could’ve done to about it. There’s no way that this pup was conceived naturally.’

‘When I found them, they said something about artificial insemination,’ Bucky added and Bruce wordlessly acknowledge the contribution. 

‘Even conceived artificially the odds of it taking would have been infinitesimally small, negligible at best. If I’m being completely honest, that pups nothing short of a miracle.’ 

Looking down at you, Bucky took a moment to process that. This pup that he had, in technical terms, had no part in creating already had his whole heart and every cell of it seethed. She deserved better than to have have been made by such hands for such purposes. You deserved better than to have been robbed of the choice let alone the love and care that he would have wrapped you up in if you had let him. And he may not deserve it but he would have wanted better than to have been kept out of it and denied all the moments and milestones that he had missed. There was no turning back time and he knew that things going forward might not be easy but Bruce’s words had given him a little more hope. She had already beaten so many odds and if she was even half as determined as you and anywhere near as strong as him, then she could beat a few more.

‘Buck?’ 

The look that Steve gave him was as tentative as it was apologetic. ‘I’ve got to ask...while you were in the base did you hear or find out anything about the other omegas that were there?’

‘I knew there were a few around but that was it. When I scented Y/N I kinda just...’

The forward traveling line that he drew in the air, moving away from himself adequately conveyed the insane alpha focus that had overtaken him.

Steve nodded, understanding. 

‘When you scented the other omegas, do you think that Hydra did to them what they did to Y/N?’

The question caught Bucky off guard. At the time he had no way of knowing if the nearby omegas were Hydra or not but it genuinely hadn’t occurred to him that if they weren’t then they might have been subjected to the same experiments. In hindsight, that was incredibly naïve. If Hydra wanted to build an army of super soldiers then they wouldn’t have put all their eggs in one basket, so to speak. The potential ramifications of that realisation could be huge and definitely far more than he could fully wrap his head around, right now. However, while he couldn’t be sure what Hydra had or hadn’t done, there was one thing that he was certain of. 

‘They were the only one there that smelled like me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely.’

Steve descended into thoughtful silence, gears visibly whirring in his brain. His own may feel more like they were clunking than whirring as they returned to all that had happened at the base and the still unanswered wondering that throbbed in the back if his mind.

‘In Siberia...’ Bucky began, trying to order his thoughts into something coherent. ‘They said we didn’t really know each other...and I thought that too but...I also can’t explain how...’

So much for coherent. 

Gathering himself, Bucky resorted to blurting out the root of his concern. ‘Did I really throw them through a window?’

Everybody stilled for a moment, the laboured silence dragging out for several seconds. It was Steve who eventually spoke up.

‘It wasn’t you.’

That didn't make him feel any better, not that he expected to.

‘What happened?’

Steve continued with care.

‘Hydra sent you to kill me.’

This was just getting worse by the minute. ‘Washington turned into a warzone. Y/N was S.H.I.E.L.D back then and at that point we were fugitives but that’s a long story in itself. Still, when they heard that we were caught up on the bridge fighting you, they disobeyed a direct order from their superior, who turned out to be Hydra, and came to back us up. They didn’t make it to us in time to do anything. Past that all I know is that they ran into you as you fled the scene. They just...got in the way.’ 

Bucky thought he was going to be sick.

‘How bad was it?’

‘Cuts and bruises. Broke a few ribs, I think.’

That was bad enough but at least not as bad as it could have been and he knew how bad "bad" could really be in Winter Soldier terms. ‘They didn’t blame you, though if that’s what you’re worried about.’

By the time Steve had finished speaking, the heavily blended scent of worry marred by irritation was way too strong to be recycled particles. Being the nearest to the beta, Bucky looked towards Sam, the others following as the fumes reached them. 

Once again, it felt as though nobody dared speak. Sam didn’t say a word but his manner gave testimony to his conviction despite his subtly apologetic air.

‘You got something to say?’ Bucky eventually broke the silence, hoping that it came across as neutral as he had intended it. From their previous interaction, your best friend’s displeasure was clearly focussed on him no matter how little he was saying about it yet. The last thing that he wanted to do was make a real enemy of the guy if they were both going to be a big part of your life. 

‘Me and you have some business to take care of and I stand by that,’ Sam began, ‘but now isn’t the time to talk about...’

For a moment words escaped him, seeming to realise that he had backed himself into a corner whereby he couldn’t talk about what they shouldn’t be talking about without, in fact, talking about it.

‘Talk about what?’

From the building cloud of sourly mingling scents, Sam’s concern over this particular train of conversation was shared by the rest of the team. Whatever he wasn’t telling, it was something big, awful or both.

‘Buck...’ Steve said in an awkward attempt to dissuade him but Bucky ignored the plea, fixing Sam with an inescapable stare.

‘Talk about what?’

Assessing correctly that there was no chance that he was going to let the matter drop now that it had come up, Sam folded his arms across his chest, took a deep breath and met Bucky eye to eye. He never raised his voice, never wandered beyond the matter of fact sustained by a deep emotionality that Bucky could feel more than he could see. However, he also left Bucky in no doubt as to his true feelings.

‘You might not know each other but you have crossed paths. And while Y/N might not blame you for what you did as The Winter Soldier, fact remains that you guys have been in the same room all of three times and every one of them has ended with Y/N hospitalised.’

Even accounting for the steadily delivery seemingly intended to convey awareness rather than animosity, that felt like being kicked in the gut and then some. 

‘You think I’m no good for them.’ 

Another statement of fact, this time from him. 

It hurt to hear it, especially from someone so close to you but he would be lying if he said that, with what he knew of his history and the likelihood that Hydra would never really let him go, the same thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

‘I think it doesn’t matter what I think. When it comes to their alpha, Y/N’s opinion is the only one that counts,’ Sam gave a pause, continuing in a concessionary tone. ‘If you really want mine though, you seem to have good intentions and there’s a lot to be said for that. But I don’t think you’ve really thought about what happens after that pup is born.’

Bucky frowned at the nonsensical comment. What happened after she was born was an open and closed book. 

‘What’s there to think about?’ Bucky asked, a slight edge creeping into his tone that he couldn’t help.

The others watched intently, Steve and Natasha clearly poised in case they needed to step in and Bucky resented the insinuation, however unintended, that he would turf you out of his arms to just lay his fists into anybody, let alone your friend. 

Sam took another deep breath, choosing his words carefully. 

‘Right now, you’re working the whole possessive alpha thing, getting up in Steve’s face, making all kinds of promises. But when your pup is born their scents are gonna start separating. In not so long, Y/N’s not gonna smell like you anymore and then all that crazy,’ he said, making a circular gesture in Bucky’s direction, ‘all that devotion goes straight out the window.’

Bucky felt himself wince at the choice of words. ‘You might be the kind of alpha who sticks around, you might not but either way if all this ends with Y/N crying on my shoulder, then me and you are really gonna have some problems.’ 

Taking a moment to try and calm the storm that was raging inside of him, Bucky rested his cheek against your head and pulled your scent deep into his lungs. Steve and Natasha seemed to relax a little now that the exchange was acceptably diffused and once he felt centred enough in himself, Bucky raised his head and turned his attention back to Sam. 

‘You’re right. There’s a lot of things that happened that I can’t change and that’s come out badly on them. They’re both in this mess because of me. And, yeah, that they smell like me is part of why I’ve gone as crazy alpha as I have...but that’s not all this is. When she’s born I’m not going anywhere because they’re mine and I’m theirs and I can’t tell you how I know that when I can’t remember half my life. I just...know. But if I ever go sideways like that, if it ever turns out like you’re worried it's gonna, you’re welcome to beat my ass into the ground and I won’t fight back. That sound fair?’

A slight twitch quirked the corner of Sam’s mouth, the aggravated scent dissipating as it got sucked away by the ventilation system again. He observed Bucky for a while longer before sitting back in his chair and putting his feet up on the one beside him. 

‘I can work with this.’

The surprisingly playful sarcasm that you would no doubt approve of eased the tension and an odd brand of companionable silence fell over the cabin. With so much emotion spent and the basically no sleep that he had managed in the last few days, exhaustion began setting in with a vengeance. That was the only thing that The Winter Soldier had that he envied, right now, the ability to circumvent the need for rest through sheer force of will alone. 

Once more, feeling your heartbeat under his palm soothed him as he turned the conversation over in his head. 

Would you feel differently about him once she was born and the biology that pulled you towards him wasn’t still living inside of you?

Would you decide that you really did blame him after all for those three...?

Stopping mid-thought, Bucky felt himself sit up a little straighter, instantly wide awake. 

_Three._

Now and in Washington - which was presumably the first time that you had met - made two but what made three?

_“Oh, there was that time...um...that one's definitely not going to be helpful, either.”_

Your words from Siberia, your first meeting to his memory, returned to him as he chewed over it some more. 

There was something else. 

Something else that they hadn’t told him.

Bucky's stomach sank.

The words that he opened his mouth to speak evaporated on his tongue as his stomach lurched in a much more literal sense. 

‘We’re losing altitude.’

‘That’s because we’re home,’ Clint responded, confirming Bucky’s observation. ‘And the welcome party’s here.’

When they set down on the top of the tower and the ramp came down, a rush of activity ensued. The group that had awaited your arrival deferred to Bruce who was taking charge in his understated yet highly effective manner as Nat followed, holding space whether he needed it or not. With great effort Bucky let you go and placed you on the stretcher that they had brought with them though, he still couldn't bring himself to let go of your hand. However, just as he was about to step off of the jet, Steve’s palm landed on his chest, forcing him to loosen his grip or risk pulling your arm off. 

The loss of contact and the other alpha as the cause was not a good combination.

‘What the hell do you think you're doing?’ Bucky demanded, moving to push past him, however, Steve didn’t let up, forcing one of Bruce’s shirts and a pair of sweats at him.

‘Put these on.’

‘Are you kidding me, right now? I don't have time for this shit.’ 

The beginnings of a growl built in his throat but Steve just stared him down.

‘Then I hope you’ve got time to get full of bullets because that might be exactly what happens if you don’t do as I say,’ he barked, leaving no room for Bucky to argue. ‘You might not remember much of what happened in Washington but there’s a lot of people in that building that do and if you walk in there dressed like The Winter Soldier then there’ll be plenty of them who'll be more than happy to shoot first and ask questions later.’ 

‘Then let ‘em!’ 

‘And what good are you to Y/N dead?’ That gave Bucky pause for thought even as the view of you being wheeled still further away from him began to tighten the coiled spring that had returned in his chest. ‘Or in Guantanamo, huh? Because that’s where you’re gonna end up if you don't play your cards right. If you want to have half a chance in hell of actually staying with them then you need to keep your head on your shoulders and give us something to work with so that we can make your case.’

Even with his alpha instincts throwing him for a loop, the truth of Steve’s words broke through. He had already spent three days away from you while he hatched his extraction plan and he had no desire to repeat the experience. To have those relatively few hours extended to an indefinite amount of time would break him. 

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the clothes Steve offered and threw them on the floor.

‘Fine,’ he relented, tearing off his jacket, boots and pants on the spot. 

When he addressed his friend again most of the bite had dissipated from his tone. ‘Couldn’t have brought this up sooner?’

‘Yeah, well, we’ve all been kind of distracted,’ Steve replied, entirely unfazed.

The next thing Bucky knew, he had Clint at his side, enthusiastically yapping advice in his ear. 

‘Okay, first; when pup’s coming in hot, climb right up behind Y/N and give them both hands to squeeze. Sounds weird but trust me it’s a thing. Second; up until the moment that pup is born, everything in the entire history of the human race is _your_ fault. Make your peace with it. Third; don’t be stingy with the encouragement. You love them, they’re doing great, you’re so proud of them. They need to hear it. And fourth...’

Clint faced Bucky as he finished wrestling his boots back on and straightened up. The more experienced beta took him by the shoulders and gave him the most joyfully sincere and understanding smile. ‘Be present. You’re never gonna get this moment back.’

Bucky didn’t get the chance to give anything more than a thankful nod, even if he could have managed it before Clint was yelling at him to: ‘Go! Go! Go!’

The two remaining Avengers watched him take off at a sprint, nearly crashing through the doors on his way in.

Clint rested his elbow on his forearm, fingers on his chin like a proud father himself. ‘They grow up so fast.’ 

Then he slapped Steve on the shoulder, gathering the Captain's attention to impart yet more sagely wisdom. ‘And you might want to give them a few floors grace. There’s gonna be a lot of cursing going on.’

‘Oh my god, I said it one time!’ 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time. I may have, unbeknown to myself, told a little bit of a fib... 
> 
> I had a plan, I was ready to go then the plot bunnies invaded, armed and dangerous! There was carnage! I didn't stand a chance! So, the big event, I am sorry to say, is a smidge delayed. There are two more chapters including this one and then we're ready to rock and roll! (And I am 100% certain this time as I already have the next chapter and a half written 👌)
> 
> By way of apology, please accept this fluffy, fluffy angst and some manbun Bucky!
> 
> Enjoy!

Light was all that registered at first. A dim little spot like a star in the depths of space. It was quiet there, just you and that tiny star basking in companionable stillness. 

Floating in the strangely cosy sensory vacuum was actually quite...relaxing? 

Calm. 

Safe even.

You tried to remember how you got there as the star moved towards you, lighting up more and more of the darkness that both surrounded and infused. Not a single thought penetrated the marshmallow-like emptiness. Only the light filling every corner of your consciousness held such authority.

It was then that you realised that the light had a texture; pocked and grainy, milky white and intersected with grey-ish, criss-crossed lines along vertical and horizontal paths. 

Then there were things that you remembered to call sounds. 

Soft, rhythmic rushes of air punctuated by the shortest intermissions.

A tickling sensation along your skin on the back of your hand - oh, yeah, you had that stuff, didn’t you? - sent a crackle up your arm as the bridges between nerves reconnected with your brain. 

After a few minutes of staring at the thing that your emerging thoughts dubbed a ceiling, your body was beginning to recall that it could do things like move, taste, smell. 

_Wood smoke and rainy New York streets._

The thump-thump-thump in your chest picked up pace as the scent permeated your reawakening nose even as it inspired a mellow hum to ruffle your neglected vocal chords.

Another indeterminate amount of time passed while your senses and limbs stirred one by one. By the time you felt fully seated in your body again the familiar sounds and smells of home, the med-bay to be specific, had fought their way through the thick cloud of alpha to greet you. 

_My alpha_ , a familiar and long quieted voice said.

With the memories of why you had been lulled into the darkness beginning to resurface, as did a twitch of anxiety. 

Your left hand moved instantly to your stomach. 

At the contact, a little swoosh rippled your insides as if to say: _Yep, still here._

Relief so strong that you had to scrunch your face to hold back tears surged through you to the tips of your toes.

‘That’ll do, Pupper,’ you heard your own voice croak, giving her a couple of taps in return. ‘That’ll do.’ 

Finally in possession of the strength and coordination to turn your head, you managed to corral the still heavy mass to your right.

The hospital bed was tall and you, resting against the half-raised top, even taller. An IV of clear liquid that seemed to be saline solution dripped through a line into a cannula that was plaster taped into the back of your hand. Another palm up hand lay beneath it, fingers wrapped around yours, a tuft of thick brown hair splayed over the forearm that joined with it. The rest was pulled back and twisted into a messy bun at the nape of his neck by what looked like an elastic band. The rhythmic whooshes of air synced with the rise and fall his chest, eyelids fluttering above the deep, dark circles that cut into his pale skin. 

Your heart gave an extra hard thump in your chest.

How long had he been there?

Had he eaten?

Was he going to wake up with the crick in his neck that he had flat out refused to allow you to suffer?

A million worries, both big and small, stampeded through your mind as you took in the sleeping alpha. The frantic movement of his eyes didn’t give the impression of a peaceful sleep still, you were reluctant to wake him. The chair that supported him, however, was making the decision for you. It had slid away from the bed across the marmoleum floor which, would end with him falling flat on his face sooner rather than later. 

You couldn’t leave him like that. Worrying about him waking up with painfully stiff muscles was bad enough, if he broke his nose or knocked his own teeth out you would never forgive yourself. 

‘Bucky?’ You whispered, gently pushing a strand of hair out of his face. ‘Bucky?’ 

He didn’t even stir.

You might not have an encyclopaedic catalogue of first hand experience as regards the many moods of Bucky Barnes but you would only have to take account of the profile that you had used to track him over the years to know that the nature of his twenty-first century self was watchful and vigilant. With everything that you had seen since, you would have staked your professional reputation on him being the mother of all light sleepers in a heartbeat. For that to have switched off so completely, for him to be this dead to the world he must have run himself so far past the point of exhaustion that you wanted to just pull him up onto the bed, tuck him into your arms and let him sleep until the end of time if he needed to. 

Even without your pup limiting your lifting abilities though, you would need to be a super soldier yourself to be able to lift him an inch. Buzzing someone to bring in another bed for him was an option since you doubted that he wouldn’t do anything but growl at being so far away from you, right now...

 _Right now._

That hit hard. 

Wrapped up in his arms, his scent and a hurricane of emotions as the contractions intensified along with the risks, you had managed to forget that the connection that had the two of you so devoutly intertwined had a shelf life. You could feel it laying down roots in every nook, cranny and corner, carving out it’s own path with every dead end that it swelled against. You hadn’t realised how strongly built some of those walls had been until they were tumbling down around you like brushed snow, revealing long buried passages that, even shrouded in ambiguity, beckoned you deeper. 

The little hallucinatory voice, clearly roused again by unusual disruption to your body’s natural processes, whispered along the shadowed tunnels with a siren-like pull. 

_He’s mine._

It was innocently persuasive, filling you with a niggling and impossible certainty that if you just followed the echo of its words into the uncharted depths then everything would be fine. 

And that was the problem. 

It wouldn’t be fine.

At least not like the scent-swayed omega in you wanted it to be.

He wasn’t yours and if you let yourself believe otherwise your pup's earliest experiences of you would be of a heartbroken mess. As much as your gut screamed at you that Bucky wouldn’t leave you high and dry, at least not if he had a choice in the matter, that still didn’t mean that you were going to walk into some perfect, ready made family. 

This wasn’t the movies.

Real life didn’t work that way.

And once your pup was born, your scent would change, the pheromones would die down and the near addictive pull that Bucky felt towards you would dissipate just as quickly. 

The image of him in Bucharest, the wide-eyed terror that flashed across his face right before he bolted felt like a knife through the heart but _that_...? That was real. Someone who would drop a scent grenade on you rather than be in the same room wasn’t just going to suddenly shack up and adore you forever, even if those memories never came back.

That was something that you were just going to have to accept. 

Still, however cruel it may be, with your pup still live and very much kicking inside of you it felt too real to stuff down, not that you had the energy to try let alone succeed for long despite your “nap”. Apparently, Future You wasn’t you quite yet and that may be something else that you had to accept even if it inevitably led to an awkward and self-conscious immediate future once you both came down off the hormonal high and had to navigate being able to look each other in the face.

Well, at least you would both be there feeling like dumbasses together. 

It didn’t make you feel any better.

Banking that particular emotional shitstorm, you earmarked it for Future You’s attention. ‘Bucky?’ 

You tried again, brushing the back of his hand with your thumb.

Still nothing. 

Bracing yourself, you took a deep if shaky breath. 

Future You was going to have some work on their hands. ‘Alpha?’


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This product contains high quantities of fluffy manbun Bucky. Do not operate heavy machinery whilst reading this fic.
> 
> May also contain: talk of complications, a touch of anxiety and a smidge of embarrassment.

Bucky’s eyes shot open. 

The jolt racked through his body and nearly took the chair from under him but he just managed to save himself. For a moment he held himself there as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. He seemed surprised to registered your hand grasping around his in your automatic attempt to steady him, his gaze following the curve of your arm until he found your face. 

His blue eyes, rattled by the unexpected summons of the waking world, melted instantly, the relief that possessed them reaching so far into the depths that you felt as though you would get lost in the dark before you ever found its anchor. For a moment he froze there looking up at you, then one corner of his mouth quirked upwards. The muscles around the dimple that the motion created followed like a group of soft and fluffy ducklings until it lit his entire face. 

‘You’re awake.’

Where vestiges of the Winter Soldier had still clung to him before you had succumbed to Bruce’s little nap gizmos, not a spec of Hydra’s creation remained. This wasn’t the Winter Soldier or even the Bucky from Bucharest. This Bucky may be woven from the same threads but a new kaleidoscopic range of colours laced through gaps between. 

He effortlessly wore the infamous smile that had broken hearts back in the day and may yet claim one more. Feeling like the only omega in the universe was too easy with him looking at you like that. ‘How you feeling, ‘Mega?’

And hitting you with the _‘Mega_? 

Damn you were in trouble.

Needless to say, it took a moment for your brain to remember how to work, again. 

‘Like I’ve actually had the nap of my life,’ you managed to respond. 

With your wellbeing confirmed, he seemed to finally allow the smile to claim his eyes and that was such a whole other level of devastating that you wondered how Brooklyn circa nineteen-forty hadn’t been filled with mini-Barnses from eye contact alone, heat advantageous but not essential.

Bucky grimaced a little as he lifted his head and straightened up. Your other hand mindlessly reached for his right shoulder, massaging where he had been laid on it. ‘How long have you been sitting there?’

He hummed contentedly at the contact, interlocking your fingers.

‘Um...’ He looked around for the wall-clock, finding it above the door which was on the wall opposite you and to the side of him. The only place where the one entrance could be visible at all times without you being positioned vulnerably in between, you noted. ‘About twelve hours, I think.’

‘ _Twelve hours?_ ’ You cried, thoughts tumbling out at a mile a minute. ‘You’ve been there for...? I thought we were supposed to be back in four? Oh God, what happened?’

Bucky was quick to jump in before your imagination could run wild with doomsday scenarios to explain the discrepancy. 

‘Hey, hey, hey, everything’s fine, just take a breath, okay?’ He reassured you, tenderly tipping your chin with his left hand, ensuring that you looked at him. ‘You don’t need to be getting too stressed, right now. I’ll tell you what happened but first you’ve got to remember that it all turned out okay. ‘kay?’

‘That sounds ominous.’

‘It was...’ he took a moment to search for the right word. ‘Eventful. But we handled it and you’re alright and she’s alright and, that’s all that matters.’

His scent didn’t shift, no signs of immediate stress betraying the statement.

‘Okay,’ you replied, taking the deep breaths that he had suggested. It was sound advice. ‘So, what happened?’

He gave you another moment to be sure, then apparently satisfied enough that you weren’t going to majorly freak out, he carried on.

‘When we got home, Bruce...shit! I was supposed to buzz Bruce when you came around.’ 

He took a moment to frantically search for the call bell and pressed the button before turning back to you. ‘Sorry. Um...where was I?’ He asked, rubbing some more sleep out of his eyes.

‘When we got home, Bruce...’ you gently reminded him, rubbing his shoulder more purposefully.

‘Right...so, he started bringing you back as quickly as he took you down but then she started going into distress -’

‘Distress sounds bad.’

Bucky gave your hand a squeeze and hurriedly continued before the stress that he was so worried about could set in.

‘But Bruce was on it and we got you both stable and, everything was fine,’ he reiterated, emphasis heavily on the “fine”. ‘So, he kept you under for a while and ran a bunch of tests and it turns out she did go into stasis with you, only where you went down part way, she went all in. She was kind of like in her own little bubble until we started to wake you up. But then she couldn’t come around fast enough to take the amount of blood that your body was trying to give her and she just freaked out a little.’ 

You suspected that the alleged littleness of said freak out was, in fact, not so little but you decided to let it go. ‘Took us a while to figure it out but Bruce managed to do some recalibrating so that we could bring her back up in her own time. We had to take it incrementally; real, _real_ slow, then once we were sure that she was back and doing okay we started bringing you back, too.’

There were a lot of “we”s and “us”es in that sentence that your hormone saturated brain was not a fan of. Despite scenting only of Bucky and the last remnants of fabric conditioner, the familiar borrowed sweats that he now wore were only adding to your internal currently-more-gremlin-than-omega’s ire.

_But he’s mine! Mine! Mine!_

_He’s not! So, calm your shit and get over it, already._ You shot back.

‘You sure you’re feeling okay?’ The question pulled you out of yourself praying that you hadn’t accidentally said any of that out loud.

‘Yeah, totally! Feeling, like, awesome. Totally...um...yeah...awesome.’

His brow furrowed slightly at the decidedly extra response to the simple question but he didn’t say anything, just reached discretely for the call button, again.

_Yeah. Awesome, Y/N. Totally._

‘You’re awake!’ This exclamation was Bruce’s. 

Tablet in hand, he set only one foot inside the door before stopping dead in his tracks.

You looked at him quizzically for a moment. 

What was up with him?

Then the furnace-like heat at your side and the tension in your hands filtered through. You followed the sensations to find Bucky half-seated on the bed beside you. He was at an odd angle, his vibranium arm reaching out to steady himself on the bed. Your hands held onto his shirt so tightly that your fingers hurt, the tension of the fabric testament to how hard your arms were pulling. He was nearly as close as he had been on the jet, noses almost touching, his scent full and rich in your lungs. Taking you in from the considerably decreased distance, the mixture of surprise and rosy cheeked amusement in his expression stole your breath away. 

As the realisation tumbled in, you released your grip on him like you had been ordered to drop a loaded weapon. Your hands reached up to cover your face, utterly mortified by your unconsciously possessive actions. 

Well, there was your plan to seamlessly contain your deranged inner omega blown to hell.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ you said to Bucky before turning to Bruce. ‘I didn’t mean to go all...oh my God.’ 

Bucky said nothing, just gently prized one of your hands away from your cheek to hold again as he settled on the bed beside you.

Though the fear of also having upset your friend was doing cartwheels around your ribcage, the other omega only gave you a knowing smile that made you feel like he could see straight through you which, to be fair, he probably could.

‘I seem to remember you once spending a whole hour training with Natasha and me having to hightail it before I Hulked out and tore the place apart. So, if you wanna beat _that_ then, Honey, you’re gonna have to up your game.’

Even embarrassed as hell, you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory and how cool that Bruce could now be about what was, back then, his own unbonded possessive reactions. The reminder of the ridiculousness of biology did make you feel a little better, though. ‘Is it okay if I come in?’

Realistically, it could only be a courtesy question. With the situation being as it was you couldn’t imagine how you would all move forward if you said no but you appreciated the sentiment.

‘Sure, come join me in my lair of crazy,’ you replied, hoping that hiding behind your habitual sarcasm would diffuse the awkward feeling a little faster. ‘I’ll behave.’

Bucky slid one arm around your shoulders as Bruce approached.

‘I hope not.’ 

The fly away comment was only loud enough for you to hear and clearly intended that way as he fixed you with beginnings of a flirtatious spark in his eyes and a beaming Cheshire Cat grin, apparently, quite content in finding himself forcibly repositioned.

He really needed to cut it out with that smile before he gave you a heart attack or something.

‘How are you feeling?’ Bruce asked as he walked around to the other side of the bed seemingly for the sake of ease but also a clear statement in positioning himself so that you were between him and Bucky.

‘Actually, pretty well rested.’

‘You had any more contractions since you came around?’

‘No but I’ve been awake all of five minutes. I felt her move, though.’

‘That’s good,’ Bruce said, with a reassured smile as he took notes on his tablet and checked the read outs on the various pieces of equipment that you were hooked up to. ‘That was gonna be my next question. I’m assuming Bucky’s told you that she was making us earn our keep there for a little while.’

‘I might have got the slightly abridged version,’ you replied, with a sideways glance at the alpha in question.

‘He tell you that it was him who figured out what the problem was before we even ran a test?’

You looked to Bucky who was glancing bashfully downwards at having the attention unexpectedly flipped on him.

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘Just...had a hunch,’ he explained with a shrug.

‘An incredibly specific and entirely correct hunch.’

With another coy bounce of his shoulders, he changed the subject.

‘So, what happens now?’ 

‘Well, it might take a while for everything to remember what it was doing. I say we leave it a couple of hours and see what happens but if it doesn’t look like things are going to start up again on their own then I wouldn’t want to leave it too long before inducing you.’

‘And how does that...?’ You began before changing your mind. ‘In fact, you know what, don’t tell me until you’ve got to do it. I don’t think I can do any more processing, right now.’

‘No problem,’ Bruce said, resting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. ‘In the meantime just try to relax, watch some TV -’

‘Oh my God, TV! I almost forgot it was a thing,’ you cried. ‘And _please_ tell me that we have reading material that isn’t just the same four trashy mystery novels?’

Bruce chuckled at your enthusiasm, handing you the remote from a shelf above the bed. 

‘We’ve had some upgrades in your absence. You have TV stations from all over the world, every radio station, game and streaming platform in existence, the internet and the fully integrated world of literature at your disposal. You can also order anything from any store, restaurant, coffee shop and food stand in the State of New York and it’ll be here in less than a couple of hours.’

You held the remote between your palms, looking up to the sky as though in joyous prayer.

‘God bless Tony and his insane compulsion to innovate.’

‘Where is the TV?’ Bucky asked, looking around the walls of the room which, were tastefully decorated with modern art but lacked any obvious tech that didn’t have a purely medical purpose.

‘Wait for it,’ you said, pointing the remote in front of you and pressing the power button. 

The holographic screen opened up in front of you and Bucky’s jaw nearly hit the floor. ‘Holo-vision!’ You announced with your best magician voice and vigorous jazz hands.

‘Okay, what the hell?’ 

In moments he was inspecting it carefully as you switched between channels, websites and order pages, in awe of what he was seeing. ‘I really need to know how this whole holo-thing works.’

Bruce chuckled, turning back to you as he began to walk away. 

‘There’s a keen scientific mind in there, I’m telling you.’

You almost snapped at him to keep his compliments to himself but caught yourself just in time. Noticing the near slip, Bruce gave you an amusedly sympathetic smile that seemed to say: 

_Been there, done that, got the big ass, unhinged t-shirt._

Then he turned to leave. ‘If you need anything just push the call button.’

He made it as far as the door before spinning on his heels and rushing back. ‘Oh, almost forgot,’ he began, pulling something out of his tablet case. ‘I figured you guys might want a copy of this.’

He handed you what looked like a photo. When you turned it over, the image on the other side stopped the breath in your lungs. 

You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice Bruce quietly making his exit.

The sonogram was so clear and defined that it looked almost like an actual photograph, lit in bright white and greyish shadow surrounded by a dark black not unlike the cosy darkness that you had seen in your stasis induced sleep. One side of her face was clearly visible, the other obstructed by her hand as she sucked her thumb. 

The TV completely forgotten, you had no idea how long you stared speechlessly down at it. 

‘She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’ Bucky’s voice rumbled quietly in your ear like he was scared to wake her.

‘So, she is a she?’

‘You called it.’ 

You thought your throat was going to close up completely as you looked down at your pup.

‘God, I can’t wait to meet you.’

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT!!! THE TIME HAS COME!!!
> 
> When I started this, I really didn't think that it would take 21 (21!!!) chapters to get here but we finally made it! Another huge thank you again to all of you who have stuck with it through the plot bunny wars, you have been awesome and I love you all, I mean that!
> 
> So, for the warnings *cracks knuckles*.
> 
> Expect labour, birth and all that come with them including a little blood and the smidgiest smidge of messiness. There is some anxiety, suspense, fear of loss, a LOT of cursing and one particularly feisty rant at least partially inspired by SoQuintisential's "screw Hydra" comment 😉, plus some implied past torture and trauma responses but also painful amounts of fluff. There will probably be some inaccuracies too as I'm working from research alone. All mistakes my own...blahdeeblah...you know the drill but do feel free to correct me as I will come back and edit at some point.
> 
> Keep an eye out for the cameo too 😉
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy it!
> 
> I'm having surgery in the next few days and will likely be too lit on painkillers to write for a week or so...probably...but, as one especially famous cyborg once said, I'll be back - I'm SO not done with this story yet!
> 
> In the meantime, take care of yourselves, stay safe and I'll see you soon.
> 
> Lots of love x

And you didn’t have to wait long.

The sudden realisation that, _oh yeah, I’ve been locked up in a Siberian Hydra base for the last nine months with no access to the outside world and as a result know precisely fuck all about how to take care of the pup that I am imminently about to have!_ had given rise to at least fifty open tabs, one borderline anxiety attack and many an exclamation of: ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’

While you had been a unwilling guest of Hotel Hydra, you had been so focused on the escaping part that you hadn’t had the luxury of really thinking about what happened next if you actually got out. Now, with your pup’s face staring back at you so too did how little you really knew about how to give her everything that she needed. 

You had walked into countless active situations with hostages, plots for world domination and even the occasional classic bomb countdown and winged it without ever feeling this woefully underprepared. 

‘It’s gonna be fine,’ Bucky tried to reassure you, taking your face in both of his hands. ‘She’s gonna be perfect and you’re gonna be amazing and, we’re all gonna have the best time toge -’

His expression morphed into one of concerned realisation. You didn’t get the opportunity to wonder what had prompted the change before the familiar sensation of your insides contorting immobilised you. 

Once again, you found yourself cocooned in vibranium and super soldier. ‘Bruce!’ Bucky called out over the din of screamed obscenities before grating out self-directed admonishment. ‘Call button...call button...’ he repeated over and over again, as he set upon a freshly frantic search followed by a relieved: ‘Aha! Got it!’

You didn’t see exactly what happened as he reached behind you with his left hand, only heard the unhappy fizz of electricity followed by the puff of black smoke that floated across your vision. 

Bucky froze. ‘Oops.’

That might have left you with a pretty clear image in your head as to what had happened were you remotely capable of stringing a coherent thought together that wouldn’t have made Steve’s hair curl. ‘It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.’ 

With the beginnings of subdued anxiety creeping into his scent, you weren’t sure who he was trying to convince.

‘I appreciate the effort...’ you bit out, ‘but if you say the word “fine” one more time...’ 

The laugh he gave back was laboured but genuine. He looked at you for a moment like he wasn’t sure what to do before a light bulb visibly exploded in his brain. ‘Shit...what’s the robot called?’

‘By robot, I assume you mean me,’ J.A.R.V.I.S interjected, tone neutral rather than despairing over the misidentification and J.A.R.V.I.S could really do despairing when he wanted to.

‘Yes!’ Bucky cried like someone had just nailed a Hail Mary. ‘Can you get Bruce back?’ 

‘I will inform Dr. Banner that his assistance is required.’

‘Thank you!’ 

You had no idea how long it took for Bruce to arrive, it could have been an eternity, it could have been a couple of minutes but with the constant agony that was beginning to take on a body wide inflection, time lost all meaning. 

‘How long are they lasting?’ Bruce demanded as soon as he got through the door and laid eyes on you. 

Bucky didn’t need Bruce to specify what he was talking about any further.

‘First one hasn’t let up yet,’ he replied, only just managing to curb the concern in his tone. 

This wasn’t anything like the contractions that you had experienced on the jet and they both knew it without having to feel it for themselves. 

Lucky bastards. 

‘Fucking, shitting son of a bastard bitch!’ Tore through your lungs as yet another new and excruciatingly novel sensation joined the party. 

The urge to push.

It left no argument, demanding your obedience and, not unlike that little voice echoing through newly revealed passages, it was incredibly persuasive. However, you had no argument for this particular silent voice. Squeezing Bucky’s hand hard enough that you wouldn’t have been surprised if it could have broken that of the average person, you had little choice but to let your body lead.

The first real tears that the pain had managed to draw out of you stormed down your cheeks but he was quick to wipe them away. When the contraction finally subsided, Bruce came into your awareness again, the epitome of calm togetherness.

‘I’m just gonna examine you and see what’s going on, okay?’

‘If what’s going on is anything less than shoving out a nuclear missile, I don’t accept your findings,’ you groaned into Bucky’s neck.

As you let Bruce get on with it, a familiar form in light blue scrubs hovering by the doorway caught your attention.

‘Claire?’

Whereas cuts, bruises and broken bones were the most often causes of a trip to the med-bay and required only a skeleton staff most of the time, Claire occasionally came in on loan from the hospital when someone needed additional care and attention. Since treating superhero's - and those who ran with them - was kind of her thing, she was worth every penny of the insane retainer that Tony paid both her and the hospital. She had been there everyday when you and Sam were getting over the effects of that scent grenade and you would put your life in her hands in a heartbeat. 

Claire leaned over and set her hands on her thighs like a coach on the sideline before giving you two thumbs up and mouthed a very sure:

_You got this!_

Feeling Bucky tense at the interaction, you remembered the key reason why Claire wouldn’t be crossing the threshold. Claire was still a relative rarity in nurse terms, one of very few alphas to end up in that particular branch of the caring professions. Even if you weren’t effectively about to give birth to a super pup, Bruce wouldn’t settle for anyone but the most capable when the wellbeing of his friends was on the line and Claire was most certainly that. Still, her being in the room until absolutely necessary would undoubtedly aggravate Bucky and be a bit of a stretch even when it was. Knowing Claire, she would be understanding but she also wouldn’t take any shit and you hoped that Bucky was prepared for that. 

Sensing, or more likely scenting, your anxiety, Bucky pulled you in a little tighter. Though his instincts were still understandably running high, his irritated alpha scent didn’t reach quite the same potency as it had when he was facing off with Steve.

‘S’okay, ‘Mega. We have an understanding.’ 

The two alpha’s shared an unspoken moment, a curt but respectful nod in acknowledgement that whatever the nature of said understanding, it would be honoured. 

‘J.A.R.V.I.S give me vitals,’ Bruce said, breaking you all out of the moment. 

The holographic screen before you vanished in favour of one beside your bed. A whole range of data that you couldn’t begin to make sense of filled the projection but two lines - one blue, one red - dancing over each other were unmistakable.

‘Is that...?’

‘Red one’s yours, blue one’s hers,’ Bucky explained. 

The blue line made less stark jags across the graph than the red, a tiny heartbeat for a tiny person. 

‘Oh my - _FUUUUUUUCK_!’ 

By now everyone knew what that meant. 

Both lines spiked off the charts and Bucky clung onto you as you gripped his shirt, the fabric twisting until it began to stretch. Now well practiced in the art of omega comforting, he guided your nose into the crook of his neck.

‘I got you, ‘Mega. Just relax.’

However, where as the sentiment may have been enough to settle you on the jet, right now, it felt like nothing short of an insult.

‘ _You_ relax!’ You snapped as another cyclone of a contraction nearly turned you inside out, surpassing the agony of every one of the little shits to come before it, combined. With the pain growing with every passing spasm, even the blissed up haze of Bucky’s scent was only calming enough to take the absolute edges off your distraction. 

It felt like your body was running on fast forward, perhaps making up for the time that it had lost while you were under. You hadn’t been expecting a barrel of laughs but this was beyond anything you could have imagined and then some.

‘Can’t we do something about that?’ Bucky asked Bruce as you sunk your teeth into the strained fabric of his shirt. Once again, the two seemed to be on the same wavelength, minimal discussion necessary.

It was beyond maddening.

Bruce looked briefly to Claire who, whatever their silent exchange entailed, seemed to agree with Bruce’s assessment. Meeting your gaze as you followed your body’s pushing instincts, his dark eyes turned assuredly apologetic. 

‘If we’re at the pushing stage then we’re out of time to give you an epidural. I’m sorry, Honey, but I’m afraid we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.’ 

You must have looked at him like he was suggesting that you take up sword swallowing or something but Bucky was quick off the mark.

‘Don’t worry. You’re doing great and we’ll get you through it. It’ll be -’

‘Do _not_ say “fine”!’

‘Actually, that time I was gonna go with “okay”.’ His tone was incredibly good humoured considering you had just bitten his head off...again. When you turned your head to look at him intent on apologising, he just shrugged his shoulders. ‘I promised you could yell at me some more later. Guess now’s probably the best “later” for it.’

You felt your face crumple into something between reassurance and total adoration as he gave you that crooked smile and a challenge in the form of a raised eyebrow as if to say:

_C’mon, that the best you got?_

You couldn’t help but give into the laughter that you didn’t think was possible under the circumstances.

And you instantly regretted it. 

The however seemingly insignificant spasms of your diaphragm triggered a domino effect of increasingly agonising muscular convulsions until it felt like an alligator had taken hold of your lower abdomen and flat out refused to let go. The guttural cry that reverberated through every inch of you sounded more like the wail of a banshee than any incarnation of your own voice that you had ever experienced as that urge to push hit you, hard and uncompromising. 

‘I think...pupper’s done...waiting around.’

Seeming to take your words as a cue of some sort, Bucky started kicking off his boots, leaving them wherever they fell. You wondered what the hell he was doing but he moved so quickly and efficiently that the next thing you knew he was fully ensconced on the bed behind you, cradling your entire body in his. By the time he had guided your nose towards his scent gland again and placed both of his hands in yours, what he was up to was beginning to make sense. 

'You okay?' His warm breath whispered against your ear as the world began to take on an oddly floaty state not unlike your trip down into the warm underbelly of your stasis nap. Even the pain felt much more disconnected, further away somehow. A brief exchange passed between Bucky, Bruce and Claire but it was as though your ears were under several leagues of water, sinking where their voices couldn't follow. To succumb to it with the steady rise and fall of Bucky's chest rocking you was oddly tempting. 'Open your eyes, 'Mega.'

Your previously lacklustre lids instantly obeyed, opening wide and alert. His voice was soft, low, barely above a whisper but the rumbling alpha tones woven through it were unmistakable. 'I know it's hard. I know it's a lot of pain for your brain to try to make sense of but I need you to stay with me, okay?'

There was a slight wobble in his voice, just obvious enough for you to realise that he was speaking with bitter experience in the forefront of his mind. The circumstances of your situation may be very different but you knew damn well that he was no stranger to extreme pain that you could neither anticipate, control or defend against. And that thought filled you with white hot rage that you were unable to voice before the next contraction hit. 

They really weren’t playing around now and, with Bucky at your back and every piece of available fabric out of reach, you disentangled your hand from his and bit down into your crooked forefinger. 

‘You’re doing great, Honey. Really great,’ Bruce encouraged you as you tasted blood. ‘I just need you to make another big push for me, alright?’

You tried to respond but couldn’t bring yourself to tear your teeth from your finger as you tried to do as he asked. 

‘‘Mega, don’t.’ Bucky reached around you and tore a strip off of the sheet that Bruce had positioned over your thighs like it was tissue paper. Once he had wrapped the fabric thick around his left hand, he pulled your finger out of your mouth and replaced it with the heel of his vibranium thumb. ‘Here, bite down on this,’ he said, massaging your chewed finger with his other hand. ‘That’s better. I got you. I got you.’ 

Doing as he asked wasn’t so hard as the growing burning sensation reached whole new levels. 

‘Fucking Hydra thinking they’re so fucking smart when this is all over I’m going to turn up on their doorstep with half a ton of weapons grade uranium shove it up their asses and see how they like it fuck them and the asshole Nazi horse they rode in on one day one day I swear I’ll get every last one of them and then we’ll see how tough they really are fuck Hydra fuck them all!’ Your rant, muffled by Bucky’s hand in your mouth, cut off sharply as you felt something move or, more specifically, make it’s way _out_. 

Pulling Bucky’s hand out of your mouth, you looked to Bruce. 

‘Is that it? Is she here? Is she okay?’

Bruce hesitated a moment too long before managing to check the expression on his face. Claire was marginally more controlled but not by a lot. You were about to push him again, demand to know what was going on but the a small spot of blood appeared on the sheet covering your legs drew your attention. 

And it began to grow. 

Another wordless, split second conversation seemed to pass between your three companions before Bucky was turning your head to face him.

‘Look at me.’

‘What’s...what’s happening...?’ You asked, trying to turn back but Bucky took your chin firmly in his flesh hand and held there. 

‘Look at me, ‘Mega!’ There was the voice again. Under other circumstances you might have been ready to riot about it, however, right now when you were exhausted and confused and scared out of your mind, you were happy to let him take the reigns.

The rush of footsteps preceded Claire’s scent but though Bucky tensed again, he showed no other signs of kicking off about the other alpha’s proximity. Whether reading your mind or simply trying to keep you distracted from all the running around and barking directions at each other that Bruce and Claire were doing, he held your focus on him. ‘I said I wouldn’t let anything happen to either of you and I meant it. Bruce and Claire are the best out there and we need to just let them do what they do best, okay?’ 

You felt yourself nod. He wasn’t wrong and if there was anybody on earth that you could trust with your pup’s wellbeing it was these two. 

Aside from Bucky’s words, how his scent barely faltered despite how close Claire was having to get was testament to the faith that he had place in her. However, that your alpha was prepared to let her into your personal space like this without even so much of a growl spoke to the severity of the situation and that would have had the panicked hysteria welling up uncontrollably in your throat had Bruce’s voice cut in.

‘I’m sorry, Honey, but this is gonna feel a little weird.’

You didn’t get to ask what before you felt his hands settle just below your chest and push downwards along your bump. A gut wrenching wail was the immediate results of his actions. ‘I know, Honey, I know but we’ve got to get her out of there. You think you can push for me?’ He said, tone dripping in as much apology as urgency. 

The request was enough to sharpen your focus.

She needed you. 

She needed you to have her back.

And once again that determined, protective fire rose up inside of you. The last time, when you had felt it as Bucky fought to keep his mind his own, you had thought that it couldn’t have consumed you any more. Yet, with your pup on the line, this time it didn’t stop at enflaming every cell, it burned with the power of a solar flare taking every one of those nooks, crannies and passage ways, intent on lighting nothing less than your entire soul. 

With a couple of deep, preparatory breaths you began pushing as hard as you could. 

The repeated rolls of Bruce’s hands over your stomach and the never ending stream of encouragement from Bucky became your entire existence as you forced your muscles to bear down on themselves.

‘I got a head,’ you heard Claire say. ‘Just one more big push, Y/N. Come on, you got this.’

Holding on to that “one more” for dear life, you did as the nurse instructed, forcing every last ounce of strength that you had into the depths of your stomach. ‘We got her!’ 

Every one breathed an audible sigh of relief.

‘Oh my God, you did it ‘Mega!’ Bucky beamed down at you. ‘I’m so proud of you!’

You though you were going to burst out crying but then Bucky’s expression turned, the realisation dawning on you both at the same time. 

It was too quiet. 

You listened out for anything, a cough, sputter or even a snuffle but all that met you was silence perforated by the quiet and urgent mumblings of Claire and Bruce.

‘Look at me,’ Bucky almost pleaded, anxiously commanding your attention away from whatever was happening again and you could have sworn that you heard his internal monologue as clearly as your own. 

_Come on. Come on, Pupper. Just cry. Please, just cry._

The more time dragged on, the more the fumes of your shared anxiety filled the space and the more your heart filled with dread. Though Bucky had held it all together so far, he was now clearly hanging on by the fraying edges of the skin of his teeth as he made you hold his increasingly watery gaze. ‘Just look at me, ‘Mega.’ 

What sounded like a little expulsion of air jolted every nerve in your body. 

A laboured croak gave way to a wiry squawk.

Then the room came alive with a string of bellowing squeals to welcome every new breath. 

Finally, letting go of the tension that you had been holding, you both melted against the bed as a relief the like of which you had never felt coursed through you. 

Bucky’s forehead dropped against yours, a single unrestrained tear tumbling down his cheek. 

‘Oh, thank God.’

Nobody had any more words. There weren’t any in existence that could do justice to the joy of hearing her finally say hello to the world. 

The intoxicating scent of warmed sugar following her nearing wails broke you from your reverie and had you twisting in Bucky’s arms in search of her.

And there she was cradled in a yellow blanket in the crook of Bruce’s arms, waving her little arms around as she announced to the world that she was here and that it wouldn’t be the same ever again. 

‘We’ll clean her up a little better in a minute,’ Bruce said referring to the odd specs of red that still clung to her skin. ‘But you guys should say hello first.’

From the utterly gooey look on his face, she already had one completely devoted Uncle and while Claire had backed up the the doorway again - presumably as part off that understanding Bucky had spoken of - you didn't think that you had ever seen her looking quite so adoringly sappy. 

He hadn’t finished speaking before your arms were reaching for her, accepting the welcome weight in your arms. 

‘You were right,’ you spoke to Bucky without being able to tear your eyes away from her. ‘She’s perfect.’

You could barely whisper through the lump in your throat but, of course, he heard you loud and clear. 

With both of their voices in your ears, and the both of you in Bucky’s arms, the moment was almost as perfect as she was.

‘’Course she is. She’s ours.’ 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! 
> 
> Thank you to all of you for the kind well wishes and to those of you who got in touch to check up on me these last couple of weeks. I've been bowled over by you beautiful people 😘 
> 
> This one is 99% fluff with a smidge of angst, some language and a little bit of talk about placentas/mess and the like but it's not graphic at all. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Much love x

You just couldn't stop looking at her.

Her nose and mouth were all Bucky while the set of her eyes and shape of her face were undoubtedly yours. Her hands and finger nails were mesmerisingly small but your attention was drawn away by that little mouth stretching to accommodate a yawn.

Her _first_ yawn!

Damn, how were you going to keep track of all these firsts?

Where did the limit of reasonable “first” documentation lie?

First toe wiggle?

First nose twitch?

First sneeze?

Bucky’s chin rested on your shoulder, the muscles of his chest warm and relaxed against your back. 

‘She looks so much like Becca, it’s kinda scary,’ he hummed against your neck. 

He sounded completely in awe as his increasingly strong scent engulfed the three of you. Considering that it was essentially an involuntary biological response after a pup was born, a scent-based warning to all nearby alphas to “kindly fuck off or have your throat torn out”, sitting in a bubble of overwhelming Bucky-ness was actually incredibly comforting. 

Pupper seemed to respond to it as well, falling into a calm half-sleeping state. 

‘Think you can bring yourself to let her go for a minute so we can finish cleaning her up?’ 

There was nothing but softness in Bruce’s words, however, the undertones of consternation seemed to tear through the scent bubble surrounding you almost instantly. You couldn’t be sure if the true culprit was Bruce including Claire in yet another classic “we” or if it was the mere suggestion that your daughter be anywhere but with the two of you. ‘I won’t leave the room and I’ll bring her straight back. She won’t be out of your sight for a second.’ 

Bruce delivered the promise with hands raised and an amused smile on his face. Though the warning pheromones didn’t falter, Bucky dipped his head a little as he had when attention had been called to his diagnostic triumph. Not to blow your own horn but you were a damn good profiler and you were genuinely surprised to find that he could be quite so bashful. 

‘It's fine. I’ll behave,’ he replied, echoing your words in concession towards his own pup-brained crazy.

You didn’t need to be an expert to know that, as new parents - man, that felt kind of weird to think - such reactions were pretty normal. Still, that he felt comfortable enough around your friends to make even a little fun of himself made you feel all warm and gooey on the inside, even as your scent blew up with possessive irritation that Bruce had managed to make your alpha blush.

Again!

_Not my alpha_ , you reminded yourself for what felt like the thousandth time.

Bruce gave you that same teasing look as he cradled his arms to receive the blanketed bundle of pup. You weren’t sure if Bucky was nuzzling your scent gland as you handed her over in an attempt to keep himself calm or if he was enjoying another little ego stroke from the simmer in your scent.

‘Oh, I know,’ Bruce cooed, rocking Pupper gently when she started fussing at being confronted with a scent that clearly wasn’t parental. ‘I know, you just woke up in a big, strange world, didn’t you? You gotta be thinking: “Uncle Bruce, what are you doing? How are you so big? Why do you smell weird?”. But it’s okay. You’re home now and we are gonna take the best care of you and spoil you like crazy. And you just wait until you meet you’re Uncle Sam and Aunty Tasha...’ 

He talked to her the whole time, telling her everything he was doing as he did it and settling her with the calm, warm tone of his voice even if his words must sound like complete gibberish to her little ears. 

It was just too damn cute.

‘Are either of you gonna freak out if I come back in?’ Claire asked from where she leaned on the door frame.

While alpha’s were often credited with the strongest reactions to other alpha’s entering even a temporary den space, it wasn’t entirely uncommon for omegas to react badly to it, either. While an alpha that you didn’t know might have been a different story, you had no issue with any of your friends coming in and though you were pretty sure that Claire knew that, you appreciated her asking, anyway. ‘It’s important that we get the placenta to the lab so we can run test and Bruce is gonna have his hands full for a while.’ 

Ah...

In hindsight, it was now pretty obvious that what you had first felt leave the premises, so to speak, hadn’t been Pupper. It also - even with your limited anatomical knowledge on such things - made sense what all the rush had been about when her natural oxygen providing apparatus had made a swifter exit than she had. 

‘Sorry Claire, I should have brought that out,’ Bruce said between coos and reassurances to Pupper and a concernedly apologetic glance at you and Bucky, ‘I got a little distracted.’

He was definitely completely smitten already.

Over the brief exchange, Bucky’s scent had exploded with warning pheromones even more intensely than before. Yet, from the way he was clearly fighting himself, you could tell that he respected his fellow alpha even if every natural instinct was urging him towards protective aggression.

Now that you thought about it, it did seem a little odd that Claire was the only nurse in attendance. There were a few that Tony kept on retainer and though Claire was undoubtedly the best, she was the only alpha among them. The logic of not having at least one other nurse around, even if just to have someone around to be able to do this stuff without risking bloodshed was pretty shaky.

‘Well, I’m not planning on tearing any heads off for the foreseeable future,’ you replied, deciding that now wasn’t the time to voice the observation as you unconsciously reaching up to play with a wisp of Bucky’s hair. 

When you realised that you had done it, you almost fell into another bottomless pit of self-consciousness and pulled away again but when he started purring, you figured that it was probably best all around if you kept him that way. 

‘I can’t promise I won’t start growling,’ he said, speaking through gritted teeth even as he purred against your neck, ‘but I can promise, I’ll try real hard not to.’

‘Okay. How about you growl as much as you want and I’ll just get on with what I’m doing and ignore all your knot-headed chest beating?’ 

Needless to say, there was a reason why you and Claire got on like a house on fire. 

The line was delivered with the leg pulling smile of an alpha who knew that they would be going just as crazy if the shoe was on the other foot and Bucky actually laughed. While, as with Bruce, you had missed whatever conversations had taken place between them while you were gone to the world, you could see Bucky and Claire really getting on once your scent shifted and...

_Don’t even go there._

‘Sounds like a fair compromise,’ Bucky replied with a tense but genuine chuckle against your neck. 

He tensed even more acutely, beginning to curl around you again when Claire stepped over the threshold and grabbed a metal tray before going about her task. Despite having full permission to do all the growling he wanted, he was almost shaking with the effort to hold it in, especially when she veered towards the side of the bed nearest to Pupper and Bruce.

‘I’ll let Bruce finish cleaning you up,’ she said, addressing you before taking the laden tray and heading for the door.

That was a wise stance to take.

Bruce had already taken care of the worst of it while you had been making heart eyes at Pupper but you still felt like you could do with a proper wash and, whereas Bucky might be able to hold himself back from going full alpha with her in your space, all the willpower in the world wouldn’t amount to much if she tried to put her hands on you.

‘Can I just take a shower?’ You asked, wincing as Bucky's grip suddenly tightened around you.

'Shit, I'm so -' He cut himself off as he remembered who's tiny presence he was in. 'I mean...I'm sorry. You okay?'

He sounded like he was really kicking himself.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

'Just a little tender.'

This time with a hand to your head, he pulled you closer and planted a soft kiss on your temple and your heart did a full on somersault.

It would be way too easy to get used to this kind of treatment.

'Is a shower a good idea? I mean, you just had a pup,' he said it like he'd never been more in awe of anything that anyone had ever done and the pride in his eyes did weird things to your already jangled insides, 'should you even be trying to stand, right now?'

'There's a retractable chair in there,' Claire answered, nodding towards the en suite bathroom, 'could get you a wheelchair. If you're determined to walk though,' she continued with a raised eyebrow in your direction, memories of what a nightmare patient you had been by insisting on trying to walk even through your scent grenade vertigo, still fresh in her mind, 'since you didn't get the epidural, you should be okay to try in a little while. Then again, you could just get this big lug to make himself useful and carry you, just throwing that out there.'

And with that final leg pull and a promise to come check on you later - from the doorway, of course - she headed for the lab. She was just about to vanish out of sight when Bucky called out to her. 

'Claire?'

She turned back to face the two of you. 'Thank you.'

The sincerity in his voice nearly brought a tear - or fifty - to your eye. It sounded like the thanks of someone who had almost lost everything and you made a mental note to ask how much of the situation they had all shielded you from when it wasn't quite so raw in everyone's minds. 

Claire acknowledge him with a nod before turning back to give Pupper a sappy-eyed little wave and left. 

You could hear Bucky thinking. 

He was looking over towards Pupper and Bruce as he cleaned her up, however, he wasn’t anywhere near as on edge as he had been. 

By virtue of being an omega, Bruce would naturally get a lot more leeway than everybody else. From an evolutionary stand point, omegas had grouped together to care for their young while the alphas went out hunting and the betas played sentinel. Even in modern times when there weren’t quite so many sabretooth tigers to worry about, omega culture was pretty communally minded, especially once pups came along and alpha’s tended to respect that once they got past the initial “must kill and/or maim all who enter the den” phase. Though, with how the two of them seemed to have hit it off and the trust that had clearly been built while you were asleep, Bruce seemed to have earned himself an access all areas VIP pass in Bucky’s eyes despite Pupper being barely an hour old.

And that certainly wasn’t the norm.

The difference between the Bucky who had been a hair away from tearing Steve apart, who had growled at anyone who came within swiping distance and this Bucky, who had managed to hold it all in when Claire entered your space was a stark one. Yes, he looked like a completely different man probably much more like the Bucky of Steve’s youth from what you had heard. However, despite the fact that seeing him get on with your friends made your heart unbearably happy, a part of you couldn’t help but see his relatively mellowed approach as the beginning of the end.

You wanted to ask what he was thinking about but you couldn’t bring yourself to break the silence. 

Future You apparently still hadn't come on the scene yet and Present You just wanted to stay curled up in his arms, playing with his hair while he purred in your ear until Pupper was back in your arms, again.

You could let yourself have that. Even if it was only for a little while.

When Bruce was done cleaning her up, he placed Pupper carefully on the changing mat that was already laid on the nearby dresser, still talking to her the whole time. From one of the drawers, he pulled out a diaper and baby powder. From another he took a handful of clothes before looking between her and the selection, deciding which would be the better fit.

'This is organised,' you commented, amazed at how well supplied they were despite the short notice.

'You were out for a while. Had to keep busy somehow,' Bucky reminded you with the beginnings of another bout of bashfulness. It conjured the painfully domestic image of him folding clothes and organising drawers while you slept and you felt the overwhelming urge to cry.

'And you know Tony,' Bruce added as he changed and dressed her like a seasoned pro.

You watched intently, taking mental notes. 'Tasha said he was ordering stuff before the jet even took off.'

'Yeah, that does sound like Tony,' you managed to respond without croaking too much.

How had you managed to find such amazing friends?

'And there,' Bruce announced as he delicately picked her up and carried her back over, 'is one clean and happy little pup.'

And happy was exactly how she looked all cosied up in her little white hat, gloves and fleece sleep suit covered in tiny, blue Avengers style As.

Of course, that's what Tony would go for.

You dropped the strand of Bucky's hair and made excited grabby hands until Bruce handed her over, again.

It was crazy how empty your arms already felt when she wasn't in them.

And for some reason that was the moment that it all hit home, the moment that this was your new normal and how lucky you were to have it bowled you over. 

You didn’t even bother trying to dry your own tears, not that you would have managed to get there first anyway with Bucky on the blocks. 

Neither man needed to ask what what was going on. You all just sat for the longest time in dewy eyed companionable silence as you took in the tiny human being before you.

'I guess you two haven't had time to talk names, yet,' Bruce eventually said.

You and Bucky looked at each other.

‘Yeah, we should probably get on that,’ he replied.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello unto you all, my lovelies!
> 
> In todays chapter, we have yet more sickening fluff, story typical angsting and cursing plus some anxiety and insecurity.
> 
> Those of you in possession of ovaries may wish to prepare yourselves.

After some more crying, a little talk of names and giving Pupper her first feed - which, was _way_ more complicated than it sounded! - you managed to get her settled enough that you could consider getting that shower. 

Bucky didn’t move from behind you the whole time, nuzzling your scent gland and whispering encouragements. He steadied you as you moved to lay Pupper down in the clear sided hospital crib that Bruce wheeled in and placed directly beside the bed before giving you guys some space.

Tony really had gone to town. 

Once she was securely snuggled under a fresh blanket, you took the plunge and put your feet on the floor. It felt oddly weird to be on them again, kind of like getting out of the pool after swimming miles worth of laps. And that was without taking into account the post alligator wrestling state of everything from the waist down. 

‘You sure this is a good idea?’ Bucky asked, weaving his right arm around your waist after your third successive “oof” in one and half laboured steps.

‘I can handle it.’

‘Not what I asked.’ 

He gave you a calm but questioning look.

As Claire had learned the last time you had been let loose on the med-bay, your stubborn streak could rival that of the rest of the team. However, now it was all the more robust for the hyper awareness that you couldn’t count on this level of devotion forever. If you got used to having Bucky smothering you in help and affection then it would be all the more difficult to get over him not being there in the same way when your scent was back to normal, again. 

With a thoughtful “hmmm”, Bucky gave a resigned shake of his head. 

You yelped, from surprise rather than pain, as he hoisted you up into his arms. Both of you instantly turned to check on Pupper, who had stirred at the sound but miraculously hadn’t woken up. 

‘Put me down,’ you grumbled on a whisper. 

In only a few long strides Bucky had made it into the en suite wet room before you even managed to finish complaining. 

It was like something straight out of an elite hotel; tiles like layered stone, multi-jet shower-cum-dryer, a glass paned fireplace plus a sleek, matching toilet and sink in addition to underfloor heating, steam resistant mirror and a top of the range extractor system. 

Bucky stopped dead in the centre entirely unsurprised by the luxury that he had just walked into. Then again, you had been out for hours and even The ex-Winter Soldier must need a comfort break every now and again. 

He looked down at you with an expression that seemed affectionately despairing. 

‘I grew up with Steve. You think I don’t l know when someone’s trying to prove something?’ 

Hitting the button for the retractable seat with his elbow, he waited for it to fully rise from the floor before setting you down on it. 

_Note to self, sitting = ouch._

The last thing you expected was to see him drop to his knees in front of you and cup your face with both his hands. With your breath thoroughly taken away, it was hard to process the weighty sincerity tinged by guilt that swam in his eyes. ‘I know you were on your own in there for a long time,’ he began.

Fuck, you were going to end up crying again, weren’t you? ‘But you’re not on your own, anymore. Taking care of you when you need it is what your alpha’s here for, what _I’m_ here for. You got nothing to prove, okay?’ 

Though you were relieved that he was clearly putting your inability to accept help down to the whole Hydra experience, all that softness really wasn’t helping you keep your head on straight. 

For lack of anything better to say that wasn’t going to leave you completely outed, crying or both, you switched to your inner default settings. 

‘So old fashioned,’ you more croaked than teased despite your best efforts, giving him a gentle poke in the chest through the fabric of his vexingly borrowed t-shirt. 

And there was that bashful head dip, the subtle pinkening of his cheeks. 

How had you managed to be so far off base with that one?

‘Only where it counts,’ he replied, looking up at you again, this time even more seriously. ‘Are you sure that you're not gonna need a hand?’

You hadn’t even voiced that particular thought on self-sufficiency and being so accurately seen was oddly both reassuring and incredibly disconcerting.

‘After the last few months, I think it’s safe to say myself and my nether regions wouldn’t mind a little privacy.’ 

You could still see the guilt flickering behind his eyes but he was quick to gloss over it with a lopsided quirk of a smile at the sassy undertones of your response. ‘Just don’t lock the door this time? I’ll tear it off, no questions asked but it’s probably best that Tony’s first real impression isn’t me trashing his property.’ 

Your inner omega wanted to do a little squealy happy dance that this fantastically adorable alpha wanted to make a good impression on your friend and kind-of-sort-of-boss but you tried desperately to keep it in check.

‘Tony’s pretty good at trashing his own property. But I think I can accommodate that.’

Bucky took you in for a moment and you wondered if you had been busted for sure this time. However, he just traced his thumbs over your cheek bones and gifted you another dimpled smile. 

‘Thank you.’ 

Then he stood and headed out. ‘I’m just here if you need me.’ 

As the door clicked shut, you felt your bottom lip begin to wobble. 

_No._

_No!_

_We are not doing this!_

You silently snapped at yourself and the omega within. 

_This is biology._

_Nothing more._

_We can handle it_

Deciding that distraction was the best way forward, you quickly undressed and asked J.A.R.V.I.S to turn on the shower rather than try to reach around for the button. 

The perfectly tempered heat and force of the spray made you want to cry for a whole different set of reasons. 

‘J.A.R.V.I.S, you old softy. You remembered my settings.’

‘There was no reason to forget them when Mr Stark was sure of your safe return.’

‘That’s not helping me not cry, J-man.’

‘My apologies,’ the A.I returned and you knew exactly what he was doing as he changed tack, ‘though, I must say, I can hardly be considered old.’

‘Ah but your infinite knowledge means that you are older than we mere mortals in terms of your wisdom.’

‘A sensible response when I am in control of the temperature dial.’ 

Man, it was good to be home.

After a good shower and a few rounds of quality banter with J.A.R.V.I.S, you were ready to face the world, again. Wrapped in the fluffy robe that awaited you on the hook on the back of the door, you stepped outside.

‘What happened?’ You ask as the fresh, anxious pheromones that you instantly recognised as Bucky’s engulphed you. 

‘Nothing...’ Bucky responded but his voice was as tense as his scent. He stood equidistant from the bathroom door and Pupper’s crib, flesh arm wedging his metal one across his chest like he was trying to shrink into himself. 

You would have gone straight to him had Pupper not started fussing, her little nose recognising the stress tones. It was amazing that it hadn’t set her off sooner with how strongly his worked up scent was permeating the room. That must have been one hell of a sleep! 

Bucky moved to follow you then seemed to visibly hold himself back. 

Carefully picking up the fussing pup you settled her on your shoulder as instinct took over, urging you to rock her gently in time with your heartbeat. 

‘What’s wrong?’ You asked, trying to stay as calm as you could despite your concern for whatever had Bucky shook. Adding your stress tones to the mix wasn’t going to help settle her down.

‘I just...I started thinking.’

Your heart hammered in your chest. 

Had it happened already?

Was this the moment when he decided that everything that he had said and done so far was a big mistake? 

Was Future You about to come on the scene whether they were ready for it or not?

‘What about?’ You managed to ask.

Shifting his weight, Bucky's gaze lingered over Pupper, eyes lit with a perplexing medley of fierce love and unbridled terror. It once again seemed to take forever for him to find not so many words.

‘She’s so... _tiny,_ ’ he said, continuing when your confused expression prompted him to elaborate, ‘and I’m so...not.’ 

You felt all the tension seep out of you as what had happened sank in. Following his shifted gaze towards the mangled call bell that still hung from the wall by the freshly made bed, you gave an understanding sigh before turning your attention back to him. 

With your background knowledge on him, how he was holding his left arm against his chest with the other as though restraining it really should have tipped you off as to where his head had gone.

‘That was an accident.’ 

And the look that he gave you back said everything.

He’d rather stand there until the end of time than have another one when there was much more than wires and plastic in his arms. 

Not wanting to startle him, you approached him carefully. With with his stress scent filling the room, being a little closer wouldn’t make the slightest difference to Pupper’s mood. ‘I’m sorry. Everything’s been happening so fast and you’ve been so on top of everything this whole time. I forgot that you’ve got your own processing to do. Way more than me.’

He looked like he was going to argue but you beat him to the punch. ‘This is big and awesome and really, really scary. Neither of us know what the hell we’re doing. I shouldn’t have just left you alone like that to handle it all by yourself. The whole “that’s what I’m here for” thing goes both ways, you know?’ 

The last few words fell out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them but there was no taking them back now. 

By the time you had finished speaking, you were barely a step away and while he hadn’t necessarily calmed down, he also hadn’t pulled back. Instead he just looked at you with a watery sheen to his eyes and a gut wrenching expression that you couldn’t put a name to. 

Not quite confident enough to hold Pupper in one arm and reach for his hand, you nodded back towards the bed. ‘Come on. Despite having the one of the richest, most detail orientated uncles on the planet, we have a pup in need of a big ol’ teddy bear.’ 

Wandering away, you gave him a moment to think.

Sitting on the edge of the bed...

 _Yep, definitely ouch._

...you rocked your still fussy Pupper, patting her back in unpractised and slightly off rhythm. 

When you looked back up at Bucky, he was still watching from his sentinel spot though, his mood had shifted enough to reassure you that he was coming around. His tense shoulders had dropped, the pupil blown terror replaced by warm, liquid blue as the beginnings of that smile pinched at the corner of his mouth. ‘Of course, he wants to come give you a cuddle,’ you cooed at her as she let out a more settled run of squeak-like vocalisations with the recession of his anxiety, ‘but Daddy knows that he’d have to fight me for it and he’d lose.’ 

For a moment you thought that he was going to turn in to an honest to God puddle at the first utterance of his newly bestowed title. Then with a shake of his head at your gentle fun making, he took twice as many cautious steps towards the two of you than was necessary. ‘Pull up a chair,’ you said when he reached you. 

Bucky quirked an eyebrow in your direction. ‘I have a plan.’ 

With a growing smile at the stolen words, he pulled up the chair that had remained by the side of the bed and sat down, taking your direction to pull it closer until he could settle his arms - or rather the one arm that he was prepared to settle - on the mattress. 

Seeming unable to help himself, Bucky tensed a little as you laid her head in the crook of his elbow. Her arms and legs immediately started flailing, a series of little squawks a few breaths apart, rising in her lungs.

‘Oh God, what did I do?’ 

‘Nothing,’ you said, reaching over to play with his hair again. You didn’t bother trying to stop yourself. 

‘I made her cry.’

‘No, you didn’t. That’s just the only sound she knows how to make, right now.’

Thankfully, that was one nugget of experience that you could remember from when Clint’s pups were born. ‘And how she’s kicking like that? In Siberia, she did that every time you turned up. When we found you on our way out of the base, that was one of the reasons I knew it was you. She went crazy!’

‘Seriously?’ 

‘Oh yeah. Imagine having a super soldier pup going to town on your insides like that.’ 

That managed to draw out a laugh even if it was a strained one. Now that Pupper had got over the initial excitement, her squawks were fewer and further between though no less emphatic. Her face was relaxed, clearly not crying. ‘See, she’s just excited to meet you.’ 

You had never seen anybody melt quite so impressively. 

Bucky looked down at her like she was the beginning and end of everything. He didn’t even notice when his left hand reached over, slowly wiggling his silvery fingers for her to flail at to her hearts content. 

‘Hey there, Angel,’ he said as she somehow managed to grab on to his thumb. He looked like he was going to go loopy as he took her scent into the depths of his lungs, a huge dopey smile seeming to fill his entire face. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You were bringing me home.’

And just like that, he was completely gone on her. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, lovelies! 
> 
> Thanks so much again for all the comments and kudos, I'm so happy that you've all been enjoying it! 
> 
> I'm ngl, I've been up since 3:30 so, if you find anything along the lines of complete gibberish please ignore it until I come back to edit later, much thanks to you 😁
> 
> In this chapter there is: mentions of medical exams/tests, implied needles and talk of blood samples, crying (cus pups), implied vomiting (also pups), day one on the job and new parents trying to make sense of things, more ovary exploding fluff, pining. I think that's everything...?
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> [Edit: in this particular universe I have decided that the terms "Dad/Daddy" & "Mom/Mommy" traditionally default to alphas whereas, terms like "Mama"/"Papa" etc traditionally default to omegas. Betas just make it up as they go along because that's what they're like, screw convention]

Once he’d had her in his arms once, Bucky didn’t seem to want to put her down, again. Every excuse to pick her up, he was all over it.

_Relatable._

The morning - seriously, when had that happened? - had been a been a bustle of activity with Bruce running in and out to do what were, apparently, the “standard tests” plus a few extras on account of her super soldier lineage. By the time he was done you knew her exact length, weight, temperature, and oxygen levels.

Twenty inches. 

Seven pounds, two ounces. 

Ninety-eight point one degrees.

Ninety-nine point three percent.

Not that you were mentally documenting more firsts or anything.

Bruce ran an extensive range of other tests, most of which had to go to the lab and even with the full resources of Stark Industries at his disposal they would still take a while.

You had come to learn over the years that was just how science worked. 

‘I’m sorry, honey! I’m sorry,’ Bruce crooned as the understandable wailing at having blood samples taken ensued. ‘There it’s all gone now, all gone.’

She had been holding on to Bucky’s finger the whole time and once he had confirmation that Bruce was done he picked her up and rested the irate little pup on his muslin covered shoulder. 

‘Awe, I know, Angel,’ he murmured in her ear as he bounced her gently, ‘that stuff’s no fun. Yeah, I hear you. You tell Daddy all about it.’ 

At this rate you were going to suffer from a serious case of death by cuteness. 

‘I feel like the worst human being in existence,’ Bruce said as he turned his attention from Pupper to you. 

‘Neither of us would be here if it wasn’t for you,’ you replied, pulling your friend into the biggest hug you had probably ever given anybody. ‘Thank you.’ 

Bruce hugged you back, giving you a tight squeeze. ‘And if you see Claire before I do, tell her she’s got a big hug coming her way too when, you know, it’s not gonna like...get her killed.’ 

Even Bucky managed to crack a smile at that and you couldn’t decide if him being so relatively chill about your potential alpha snuggling endeavours was a good thing or a bad one. 

‘I’m sure you’ll see her to tell her yourself.’

When you and your fellow omega pulled apart, Bruce addressed all of you. ‘The guys wanted to give you some space but if it’s alright by you, they’ll stop in tomorrow and say hi.’

Since “the guys” was synonymous with the entire team, alphas and all, you looked to Bucky, trying gauging his reaction. Now that you were home and safe, were he the kind of asshole alpha that gave them all a bad press and went into a possessive rage at the mere mention of your friends visiting, then you would have undoubtedly put your foot down. However, there was a certain amount of biologically determined reactions that nobody could do anything about no matter how much they tried and, with Claire being a prime example, nobody could say that he hadn't tried. It only felt fair that you come to a joint decision.

For a moment, he looked surprised to be the centre of attention. Then he gave a little shrug with the one shoulder that he had available for such gestures.

‘Yeah, sure.’ 

Your surprise at the nonchalant statement elicited a similarly surprised response in return. ‘They’re basically family, ‘course they’re gonna want to come and see you.’ 

Bruce either didn’t see the alpha’s response as odd or he was just really good at hiding it because, since your stance on this particular matter would always go without saying, he ploughed straight on. 

‘Great, I’ll let them know.’

Without further ado, he talked you through everything that you were likely to come up against with a newborn pup as well as a list of things to keep an eye out for in both her and you. He also passed on Clint’s message that if you needed anything, even just somebody to freak out on, then you could summon him to your aid at any hour. Plus there was always J.A.R.V.I.S and his extensive database and diagnostic abilities to fall back on. 

You really did have the best friends. ‘And Tony ordered these for you guys,’ he finally announced, grabbing a hand full of shopping bags from a number of clothes stores and separating them into piles of "yours" and "Bucky’s". 

‘Wow. This Tony guy’s got everything covered,’ Bucky mused, completely gobsmacked when Bruce handed him a fresh shirt and he checked the label, ‘how does he even know my size?’

‘Tony does this a lot,’ you explained.

‘Yeah, it’s not uncommon for a perfectly tailored tux to materialise in your closet out of nowhere.’

And while the lack of proper consultation could piss everybody off from time to time, in this particular instance you were tremendously grateful. You couldn’t imagine that there was much in your closet that would fit you, right now. And of all the things to get you thinking, you were surprised to find it was the visualisation of your old wardrobe. 

‘Bruce, when can we go home?’

It felt like an odd question when “home” was only a corridor away but suddenly the thought of being back in your own bed felt like a slice of heaven. 

Bruce ran his finger along the inside of his collar. 

‘Um...maybe tomorrow night.’

‘Guess there’s a lot more observing and stuff to do, right?’ Bucky asked and your nose began to prickle with the slightest hints of Bruce-tinted anxiety. 

‘Well, yeah...I mean, I could do that from your apartment but...but it’s more that...um...’ He stumbled over himself for another moment or two before cracking. ‘Tony may have hired some people to get your place "pup ready" and it won’t be done until tomorrow night at the earliest.’ 

Now you realised why Bruce had been quite so nervous about ratting on Tony. You could only imagine how Nat would react at another alpha feathering Bruce’s nest. Their last sparring session, to your memory, anyway, had taken on more of a cage fighting vibe when Tony had seen fit to issue everyone with new gala attire and the previously mentioned tux had appeared in Bruce’s closet as if by magic. 

Tony fluctuated between simply wanting to shower the people around him with affection and deliberately winding people - mostly Nat - up when he was in the mood to play pranks. You suspected that whatever was presently going on in your room was inspired by the former mindset and a good dose of childlike excitement but if Bucky really took issue, you weren’t entirely sure how to explain to him that, while Tony Stark's infamous heart was in the right place, his capacity for tact was absolute zero. 

You were about to attempt such an explanation when Bucky’s reaction knocked you sideways and not in the way you were expecting. 

‘That’s kind. Sounds like he takes real good care of you guys.’

With Pupper now soundly asleep on his shoulder, he whispered the words but you were sure that you hadn’t misheard him. This time, Bruce seemed more than a little surprised as well. 

The only brush that Bucky had with Tony was as he had carried you to the jet and with Tony in his suit, he definitely hadn’t got close enough to scent him. Maybe he didn’t realise that Tony was an alpha. It was the only thing that made sense. 

_Unless..._

You felt your heart sink a little more than you would like. 

On the jet, he hadn’t known if Bruce was an alpha but had immediately demanded to know who he was at the suggestion that you borrow some of his clothes. 

With his warning scent filling the room by biological default, you couldn’t even ascertain if his anti-alpha mechanism had spiked to give you any more clarity.

Perhaps thankfully, your train of thought was cut off by Bruce’s response.

‘In his own very, _very_ Tony way. Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to try and get some rest. I’ll be in the lab. Call me if you need me, okay?’

If the eye bags that Clint had been sporting after both his pups were born were anything to go by, you suspected that “try” was the operative word. However, you also had a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t the only ones who were going to need some shut eye. 

‘Bruce, when was the last time you slept?’ You demanded as he grabbed the samples that he had collected and headed for the door.

‘I’ve been taking naps. I’m good.’

‘J.A.R.V.I.S?’

‘Yes, Agent Y/L/N?’

‘If Bruce doesn’t get enough sleep, be a dear and rat him out to Nat.’

‘I will take that under advisory though, it is largely unnecessary. Agent Romanoff rarely needs prompting where Doctor Banner is concerned.’ 

‘What can I say? She knows me,’ Bruce confessed.

As he left, Bucky moved to gingerly set Pupper down in her crib only for her to start crying again, the moment that she felt the loss of contact. 

‘Guess this is our lives, now,’ he commented as he picked her back up. And he didn’t seem unhappy about that.

'I guess it is.' 

In the next few hours you realised that your tag team game was surprisingly strong. Bucky left you to get changed, you returning the favour so that he could get some fresh clothes on - which, you couldn’t say that you were unhappy about - even if you did have to change in no time at all when you both learned the valuable lesson that even shoulder muslin had it’s limitations. 

After a while of consistent crying despite rocking, changing, singing and soothing, you realised that she was actually hungry again, despite having been fed barely an hour before. 

And she wasn’t just hungry, she was ravenous. 

For the rest of the night, you found yourself awoken every forty five minutes by a hungry Pupper and that was if she didn’t need changing and soothing in between. While you got into a good rhythm of you feeding her and Bucky rocking her back to sleep again, you were on a tag team rotation of half an hour leaving room for fifteen minute nap bursts in between. If you got lucky. The increasingly complex high fives that developed for your changing of the guard, purely in an attempt to keep yourselves awake were getting pretty impressive until you hit the wee hours of the morning and neither of you could guarantee that you had the co-ordination not to miss. 

By the time the sun was peeking through the blinds you could honestly say that you had never been so exhausted in your entire life and that if the whole pup feeding experience didn’t get any simpler you might just start banging your head against the nearest wall. 

But you’d be damned if it wasn’t worth it. 

Bruce’s last act before finally heading off to the lab had been to bring another bed through for Bucky. You had ended up with Pupper’s crib sandwiched between them, as you had squished them together as close as they would go. A part of you wouldn’t have complained about waking up wrapped up in those arms but you also couldn’t deny that you both felt more at ease with her safely tucked between you. 

Plus you got to bank this image for the rest of time. 

Dead on his feet, Bucky had passed out on his front on the other bed. You had watched as his right hand reach out in his sleep, his wrist hooking over the edge of Pupper’s crib. You had then also watched in teary eyed amazement as she had reached back, grabbing on to one big finger with five devastatingly tiny ones. 

A total Daddy’s girl, already.

You wished that you had thought to ask for your phone, that you could capture the adorable moment in more than just memory but even if you had, you wouldn’t have dared to move in case they stirred. 

Memory would just have to do. 

As you watched them both and their synchronised snoring, you stifled the sigh that fought to be set free along with the deep and unarguable realisation.

_Who am I kidding?_

The building moisture in your fatigue itchy eyes toppled over the edge, drawing heart lines down your cheeks. 

Ever since you had woken up in that cell in Siberia with the warm weight of him at your back, you had fought every emotion that you had charged biology with bringing to your door. 

Only, it hadn’t been biology that had you hanging on every word of Steve’s stories in the months after you had joined him and Sam. 

It hadn’t been biology that had you memorising every word in every file long into the earliest hours of countless nights. 

It hadn’t been biology that had given rise to that hallucinogenic little voice in Bucharest. 

And it certainly hadn’t been biology that had you nearly blowing yourself up in Austria rather than let Hydra get they're greasy, fascist hands on him, again.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation kicking in and making everything seem far simpler than it was because now, it seemed so terrifyingly, undeniably simple that you had no idea what to do with it. 

Right there in the middle of the night, when the world - and miraculously, even it’s newest member - were soundly asleep, the exhilarating and painful realisation fell into sharp relief in your weary mind. 

_I love Bucky Barnes._

_And did before I even met him._

Pondering the technicalities of having previously met The Winter Soldier were currently beyond you even if they had been remotely relevant to the truth that was laid out before you.

While profiling someone wasn’t the same as knowing them, you had at least had that frame of reference. You already had enough of the building blocks of his character at your finger tips to know the kind of man that he was. Apparently, that had been enough for your heart to make its choice and everything that you had experienced of him since had only built on those initial foundations. 

Bucky didn’t have that. 

Though The Winter Soldier may have thrown you through that window in Washington, Bucky Barnes hadn’t had a clue that you existed until you had chased him half way across Bucharest and ruined a lot of good plumbs along the way. 

Biology was all he had to go on. 

He would likely still wake up at some point with all those alpha instincts faltering and nothing but Pupper to tie him to you. And if how he reacted - or more specifically, didn’t react - to the prospect of welcoming your alpha friends in to your temporary den and the possibility of another alpha providing for your nest, that process was likely to conclude sooner rather than later. 

Still, you made a good team and you got on pretty well. You didn’t think that you were imagining potential where it didn’t exist. 

If you were going to have to handle that discussion, or something like it, when your new and improved, pup ready room was open to you again, maybe it was better to just put your cards on the table and have done with it? 

Then again, the last thing you wanted was for either of you to feel like you had to force yourselves to try and play happy families if it wasn’t ever, truly going to happen. That was something that you knew you couldn’t allow to go unsaid if saying something was what you decided to do. 

How would you even go about wording that?

By the time you had finished, you had thought yourself around in so many circles that you felt literally dizzy. 

Maybe this was something else best left to a Future You.

Maybe you would wake up in the morning and wonder what kind of bullshit your sleep deprived brain was on tonight.

The beginnings of a now familiar sniffle had your ears twitching. 

Checking the clock, it was about forty-five minutes since Pupper’s last ravenous wailing streak. 

_Right on schedule._

Apparently, already wired to the sound, Bucky’s eyes opened faster than they seemed to want to. 

‘That time again, huh?’ He mumbled, with a little chuckle that had more of a hint of hysteria to it. 

You couldn’t help but laugh back. It was oddly contagious. 

‘At ease, Sarge. I got this,’ you said, not that it made any difference. He was awake now and if his patterns kept anything like Pupper's did, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until you were both safely back in your beds. 

_Maybe you would wake up in the morning and..._

You almost laughed at the thought as you lifted Pupper out of her crib and settled down to try and feed her before the wailing proper phase began.

You would have to get to sleep first. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening, lovelies! 
> 
> I hope that you're all well and having a wonderful one!
> 
> Tonight we have some fluffy, fluffy angst, more mentions of vomit (pups, am I right?), talk of past imprisonment, a smidge of mortality facing and some good, old fashioned projecting.
> 
> Enjoy 😘

It was ten AM and Bucky had no idea when your friends were going to turn up.

The distraction of listing off names only to agree that all of them were either a family name, a friend's name or too close to that of an ex-mark, enemy or arch nemesis - turned out that you both had a few of those - had barely taken the edge off his mood.

There was always Angel and/or Pupper's needs to tend to but he was loathed to call her a distraction.

Still-shaky memories granted, he didn't think that he had ever expected to have this, to have his whole universe anchored by a tiny human who spent at least half of their time puking up on him.

During the war, he was pretty sure that a big part of him hadn't expected to come back and hadn't been entirely wrong. Before that, if the memories that he had were complete enough to make a judgement, he had been too busy fooling around to think about settling down. He couldn’t be sure if he had even wanted to. And The Winter Soldier? He hadn't had enough thoughts of his own to know that there was anything to want in the first place.

Hearing you stir, he altered his slow, pacing route across the room so that he could check on you. You were sound asleep for the first time since you had come out of stasis which, was...?

Damn, counting was hard.

Had to be a good thirty plus hours ago, now.

Bucky hadn't had much more sleep himself but he was also painfully aware that there were things that fell to you that he couldn't fulfil. There wasn't much that he could do about her waking up so hungry, so often and that she took after him in the enhanced sense - the pile of empty take out boxes by the waste basket were testament to how much food he could put away in a very short space of time - you being the only one who could handle it didn't feel entirely fair.

He had a vague memory of Bruce saying something about her potential appetite once they had got you both stable but he'd have to remember to check with him later. In the meantime, if all he could do was keep her asleep just a little bit longer then, by God, he would do everything he could.

You fidgeted beneath the sheets not unlike you had in Siberia and he might have thought it odd that the memory brought a smile to his face but what about any of this _wasn't_ odd?

It took him a little while of careful steps and hummed lullabies to put his finger on why, of all the not so many memories that he had of you, that was the one that stood out. And the truth was that, despite being locked up in that horrifying place, the moment that you had turned around was the freest that he had ever seen you.

 _Bucky, you’re here! You're really here!_

The Asset had barely ever seen someone happy, let alone someone happy to see him.

To say that it had knocked him sideways was putting it lightly.

Bucky wished beyond wishing that it hadn’t been The Asset that you had woken up to that day. If he had been the man that he was now, then he would have handled that first meeting very differently. 

The ability to give words to the feelings that sprang up inside of him or to navigate the intricacies of human interaction hadn’t existed to The Asset. It was like rifling through a filing cabinet only to find several letters of the alphabet missing. He had no way to process the flyaway memory that had hit him like a literal brick or the resulting gut-sure ache in his bones that he didn’t have one precious second to waste if your pup was to be brought into a better world than the one in which she had been created. His former self was a man of action and not much else, preoccupied with getting out of there as fast as he could so that he could be back all the sooner. Relying on the protocols and programming that he knew had been the only thing that had held that man together as he had dragged himself back into the vents, fighting the physical pain in his chest that grew with every inch that he crawled away from you. 

Bucky on the other hand, would have told you that he was coming back for you, that he was only leaving in the first place to put a plan in motion to ensure that he got you and your soon to arrive pup out of there. And he would have left you with nothing less than a promise that once he returned, once he had you in his arms again, he was never letting you go. 

Perhaps he would have told you the same thing that he had told Sam. 

Perhaps you might have believed that.

Either way, there didn’t seem to be any perhaps about it that if he hadn’t just vanished into thin air then the emotional walls that he had felt going up and down like a yo-yo ever since wouldn’t be there. 

Steve could argue that he and The Asset weren’t the same person until the next century rolled around but when he had been wearing Bucky’s face and had - as far as you were understandably concerned - abandoned you to Hydra’s experimental whims, he couldn’t be surprised when earning your trust was that little bit harder. 

But he would earn it. 

Whatever Sam or anybody else may say about what could or would happen when you stopped scenting like him, experience was rapidly teaching him that he couldn’t agree with any prediction that involved him being anywhere but by your side. 

After only a day your scents had separated completely. Your daughter was a little bundle of sugary goodness and the scent of Bucky which, according to Bruce, she would carry with her to a lessening degree until she hit her teens and her own scent began to mature. Your primary scent of fresh-cut grass now welcomed back the secondary undertones of sweet cherries mingled with the rapidly decreasing imprint of Bucky. Even with so relatively few hours between Angel making her way into the world and now, Bucky’s scent was two thirds as strong as it had been. 

And it was driving him crazy!

That his warning scent was in overdrive had been the only thing that hadn’t given his distraction away. If he hadn’t had Angel in his arms to focus him, he wouldn’t have been able to mask how much his hands - yes, hand _s_. Plural - had been shaking as he had basically given his word that your friends would not only leave in one piece but that them coming in at all wouldn’t be a big deal. 

The pup on his shoulder began waggling her arms, her inexperienced muscles trying to move her head as she began to fuss at his growing anxiety.

'Ah, I'm sorry, Angel,' he whispered, rocking her a little more and willing himself to calm down. 'Shhhh, s'okay. Daddy's just being a silly alpha.'

He didn't feel silly.

He felt murderous. 

But she didn’t need to know that.

Much as he would have been prepared to kiss the ground that Bruce and Claire walked on for everything that they had done, he couldn’t deny how relieved he was that the alpha hadn’t come back after heading to the lab. Holding himself back with his nose buried in your scent gland and you smelling so strongly of him had been a trial of will like nothing he had ever experienced. Yet, with his scent clinging to you less and less and with the drive to fight off any and every alpha who could possibly want to claim you only increasing, it was safe to say that his instincts were kicking in on a whole other unfathomable level. 

The friends, the _family_ that significantly pre-dated his arrival in your life were everything to you and had been integral in not only getting you to safety but your very survival. You hadn’t been kidding when you had said that neither you nor Angel would be here if it wasn’t for them and, thanks to your extended sleep, you didn’t even know the half of it. 

Baring his teeth and threatening to tear their throats out was no way to thank them even if you would have stood for it and, though he hadn’t known you that long in the grand scheme of things, he felt pretty confident that you would only be prepared to humour the knot-headed alpha in him so far. However, it was Steve’s words on the tower roof that had him intent on agonisingly forced docility. 

Those words had sunk into the roots of his soul because, in truth, Steve hadn’t been wrong. 

There probably wasn’t a single continent where The Winter Soldier and, therefore, Bucky Barnes by default wasn’t wanted. When word got out that he was here, it was inevitable that at some point one or all of them would send people to try and take him. If he got too aggressive or overstepped at any point along the way then, regardless of the circumstances involved, there would be no argument on Earth that would be heard in favour of him being allowed to stay exactly where he belonged. If he didn't go quietly then he couldn't rule out them coming to take him by force, maybe even dead or alive. And your daughter being in the middle of a full blown siege wasn't an option that he was prepared to consider.

Spending those three days away from you had been hell. The tight spring in his chest had coiled so tight that he hadn’t been able to draw in a solid breath until he found you, again. Standing on the roof contemplating the idea of that extending to forever, he had somehow known with a calm clarity beyond all reason that he wouldn’t survive it in even the physical sense. 

With the weight of your daughter in his arms, he knew it all the more acutely. 

So, if he had to bite his tongue until it bled, if he had to swallow down every last growl, if he had to chain himself to the damned wall lest he go feral so that nobody had one single round of ammunition more to believe that he was any more dangerous than they already did then, that was exactly what he was going to do.

The still sentient Feeling entrenched in every one of his cells would hear no argument and that it didn’t make sense when, by your own admission, you hadn’t known each other before that day in Siberia was the only irrelevancy on his list.

You were his. 

He was yours. 

And that was the only thing that would ever matter again.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies!
> 
> Today we have something a little more slice of lifey. May also contain: some silliness, talk of drinking and the resulting hangovers, a weeny bit of angst, protective Bucky and a smidge of a cliff hanger.
> 
> Enjoy!

'Pupper got an invisible twin I don't know about?' You asked as you rocked her in your arms.

Getting fed up of sitting on the bed, you had moved to the comfy chair in the corner. At your softly teasing comment, however, Bucky realised that he had still been pacing even without a pup to soothe. Feeling caught out, he also hadn't managed to help running his fingers through the hair on the top of his head that wasn't held in place by the elastic band provided by Bruce. That inadvertently worked out a few tangles but he couldn’t say that it felt presentable.

Maybe he should try and find a comb before the team turned up?

'Just habit already, I guess.'

It wasn't a complete lie.

'Why don't you try and get some sleep?'

The hint of concern in your expression made his stomach flip but no matter how exhausted he was, he felt too jittery to stand still let alone lie down.

'I'm just kinda...wired, right now. Maybe in a little while.'

In a backwards kind of way he was glad that he had managed to channel it all into his protective alpha fury. It was better than filling the room with anxious fumes and setting Angel off again and at least, if he kept himself in a constant state of expectation of your friend's arrival then he wasn't at as high a risk of lunging at someone before he even knew what he was doing. However, despite all the pacing and rationalising in the world, by the time he heard a light tap on the open door about an hour later, Bucky was nearly ready to tear his own hair out.

'Morning,' Sam said with a lethargic salute.

'He means afternoon,' Natasha added.

Bucky leaned back against the wall at your side, the perfect position to play sentinel over the path between the door and the two of you. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep in a growl at the gaggle of Avengers hovering on the edge of the threshold.

Clint and Sam were in front of Natasha and Steve which, was perhaps deliberate. The two betas held onto either side of the door frame both looking a little worse for wear. Clint had heavy eyes and much more ghostly complexion than the last time that Bucky had seen him and the queasy-postured Sam had his shades planted firmly on the bridge of his nose. Natasha looked despairingly between the two of them though, from the faint bags under her eyes she herself seemed to be feeling a little peaky. Steve, in stark comparison, looked every bit the fresh and chipper boy scout.

'What did you do?'

The question was yours, the answer Clint's.

'Last night we may have had a night cap in honour of your return and Pupper's arrival...'

'And a couple of fingers may have turned into a couple of bottles,' Sam continued with a shrug that very clearly said: “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

'Each,' was Steve's mouthed contribution as he looked down at all of them with the expression of a smug father trying not to say: “I told you so”.

'Not so loud.'

Natasha turned and gave him a mocking glare as she gestured to her two suffering friends. However, the conversation had been getting more half hearted by the second as they all took in said new arrival for the first time.

It seemed that the best hangover cure known to mankind was the near weaponised potency of all things pup.

‘Awww, just look at her! She’s so precious!’ Clint said, practically curling himself in to a ball of subdued squealiness before laying his hand on Sam’s shoulder. The best of your friends was simply staring open mouthed at the sight before him and though Bucky couldn’t see his eyes, the steady bob of his Adam’s apple spoke volumes. 

Turning to address Bucky, Clint gave a clumsy flourish of his hand. ‘May we enter without bloodshed, good sir?’

Bucky wanted to laugh, wanted to be able to reply with the same openness that he was given. Though feeling instinctively less hostile towards the betas - the only two that the experienced father had been careful to include in his statement - his heckles were still raised as hell. The medley of scents slowly bleeding into your space had him balling his fists as much as he tried not to. Yet, even if he hadn’t been policing himself in favour of his best behaviour, the lit up look on your face at seeing your friends wasn’t something that he could have forgiven himself for crushing when his rational mind knew beyond doubt that they posed no danger to either you or your pup. 

With the two alphas clearly managing their own instinctive, antsy responses to Bucky’s intensely blown up scent, they didn’t appear to show any intention or expectation of following without explicit and unsolicited permission. 

Reminding himself, once again, that trust would be something that he had to give in order to earn, he did manage to force a smile even if he had to grit his teeth to do it. He crossed his arms over his chest, restraining vibranium with flesh for good measure. 

At his nod the two men piled in, Clint practically dancing towards you whereas Sam simply walked over with open arms, sat on the arm of the chair and wrapped them around your shoulders. 

You shot a surprised glance his way but didn't say anything and he tried to give you a reassuring look that he wasn't going to eviscerate either of them in return. He wasn't sure how successful an endeavour it was.

Sam’s voice sounded more than a little croaky as he spoke, truly in awe as he rested his cheek on the top of your head.

‘Oh my God, you _made_ her. I’m so proud of your dumb ass.’ 

‘And Avenger life lesson number one,’ Clint whispered as he crouched down to address the stirring pup in your arms, ‘if you say bad words like Uncle Sam then Grandpa Steve gets mad.’ 

‘Couldn’t go five minutes, huh?’ Steve returned but the sarcasm was completely eclipsed by the utterly gaga look on his face as he took in the miniaturised human. ‘God, she looks like Becca,’ he exclaimed, turning to Bucky.

However much Bucky may be crawling his own emotional walls, it was oddly calming to have that connection with Steve, to have his memories confirmed so that he could lay down one more steadying root in the reality that he now found himself in. Bucky was quite proud that he managed choke down enough rising bile to respond.

‘I know, right?’

‘Will you quit stepping on my moment?’ Sam directed his pseudo annoyance at Clint. 

‘Yeah Clint, stop stepping on his moment!’ 

Once you were in on the conversation it erupted into an all out - if whispered - banter battle on four sides with Natasha joining in from the doorway as a so-called mediator who, seemed to do much less mediating and much more egging on than the title implied. 

Flanked by the people that you had called your best friends, you looked completely at ease and picking up on your lack of anxiety despite all the new people in the only den that she had ever known, Angel took to curiously waving her arms around. The care that you felt for them was clearly returned in how they unconsciously angled themselves around you and your pup. It left Bucky in no doubt that both men would take a bullet for either of you. Were he not in such an adrenaline infused state the sombre and unbidden thought that if the illusive “they” eventually did come as he feared, that you had people who would be there for you would have undoubtedly left him in a puddle of grateful tears. 

After a while, the banter had descended into who got to cuddle your daughter first. Sam was adamant that he had best friend privileges, Clint argued that he had called first dibs and you maintained that the pair of them would have to fight you first because you had no intention of having any fewer cuddles than necessary, especially since they’d had the audacity to get Clint drunk for the first time in years and you hadn’t been there to witness it. 

Apparently, Drunk Clint was something to behold. 

Bucky didn’t think that he had ever seen a group of people laugh so much.

‘Are they always like this?’ He addressed Steve without tearing his gaze away from you, just managing to form the words before catching the wayward growl that tried to slip out. Still, he could hear the affection in Steve’s answer.

‘Pretty much.’

‘I have witnesses,’ Clint argued his case and Sam rose to meet him.

‘I laugh in the face of your witnesses.’

‘Then we settle this like men!’

You were laughing so hard that you were crying. Angel waggled her arms and legs in response to your revelry as Clint took Sam in a half hearted headlock and Sam made a show of trying to punch him. 

The hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck stood bang straight as an unfamiliar scent touched his nose. 

Champagne and steam and, _alpha_.

The growl ripped through Bucky’s chest before he even felt it building. Whereas he had prepared himself for the arrival of your friends, the unexpected addition of this unknown alpha’s scent knocked him completely off kilter. Without the energy in reserve to fuel his rational brain, he had no way to counteract his top lip twitching into a snarl as the growl intensified. 

The two beta’s broke apart immediately. Though it was Clint who addressed him, both gave him a look of complete contrition.

‘Hey, we were just fooling around -’

Their playfighting the least of his concerns, Bucky turned sharply towards the door where a third alpha now stood with the toe of one polished black shoe peeking over the threshold.

The man, dressed in a slick, grey three piece suit, was taller than Natasha but not quite as tall as Steve. He perched his shades on top of styled brown hair before straightening out his well trimmed goatee. 

The alpha looked to you with a big smile that Bucky could only interpret as unacceptably smug. 

‘Now, be honest, did you miss me?’ 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> Today we have a little drama and a lot of Tony being Tony, plus some cursing. 
> 
> [Edit: had to write this note super quick because I got called away and didn't want to lose everything! 
> 
> Those of you who have left comments/feedback, thank you SO much! I will get around to replying to you all soon and thank you as always for reading!!! 😘]
> 
> Enjoy!

'I mean, I would've come to see you sooner had these guys not kind of abandoned me in Siberia. But hey, it's fine. I'm over it.'

Even had Bucky been in possession of the most cognisant parts of his brain, it might still have been fifty-fifty as to whether he could tell if the alpha was joking or not and the riled up part of him that was actually present couldn't give a single fuck, either way.

The edges of his vision lit red, zoning in to encompass nothing but the identified threat as his vocal chords rumbled on.

Despite the growing blend of anxious pheromones filling the air, the unwelcome arrival only seemed to realise that it was, in fact, him that Bucky was growling at when Steve pushed him back a couple of inches. For a minute he looked confused at what the bigger man was doing then his face widened in realisation once Steve drew his attention to the floor. Giving the air a brief sniff, he finally seemed to register Bucky's warning scent. 'Ooooh, right. The whole threshold thing.'

Putting his hands in the air he looked to the barely contained Bucky. 'Hey, guess I kinda crossed a line there, no pun intended. Okay, maybe a little intended, I'm not gonna a lie. Oh!'

Suddenly grabbing Nat and Steve's shoulders, he looked like he'd just had an epiphany. 'Does this mean I get to do the Alpha Hokey Pokey? I've always wanted to do that.'

Getting nothing but confused and sharp warning looks from the other two alphas, he elaborated. 'You know, _in-out-in-out-and-get-your-throat-ripped-out..._ seriously, nothing?'

Bucky was in no position to judge the man's singing prowess but the way the other alpha's foot "in-and-out"ed _just_ over the edge of the threshold was enough to snap the few remaining threads of Bucky's already frayed rope.

Growl reaching a near deafening crescendo, there was nothing that Bucky could do to stop his feet pushing him forward towards the intruder.

Steve and Natasha poised for reluctant action, however, Bucky didn't make it more than a couple of yards.

The combination of colliding with what, in his tunnel-vision state, felt like a soft wall and the overwhelming scent of you prevented him from taking another step. What he reasoned could only be arms wrapped around his neck, your voice in his ear grounding him just enough to be able to process the words that you spoke.

'What you need to understand about Tony is that he has a big heart and no filter.'

_Tony!?_

Curling his arms around your waist, Bucky held you as tight as he dared. With your scent so strongly filling his lungs he began to come back to himself a little but still, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from growling or take his eyes off the other alpha.

When the thoughts started filtering back into his conscious brain, your daughter was at the forefront of his mind.

Now that he was in your arms where she had previously been, where was she?

Was she okay?

Was she freaked out by the suddenly aggressive turn of events?

As though reading his mind, you rested one hand on the back of his head, speaking calmly in his ear.

‘She’s in her crib. She’s fine.’ 

Shaking with the effort of trying bring his inner alpha to heel, Bucky buried his nose in your scent gland somehow without managing to shift his gaze. While your scent was calming him, what calmed him even more was how his scent danced with yours. The longer that he held on, the more your clothes absorbed the melding bouquet and imprinted him on you all the more. It was more of a staked claim than a warning scent or a growl could ever be and short of the permanent scar that could join you to him for the remainder of your days, it was the most off putting thing that a rival alpha could come across.

Once it became clear that Tony’s imminent decapitation had been averted, Steve and Natasha both turned and glared at their friend.

‘What? I was kidding!’ He said before turning his attention to the still rumbling Bucky and repeating the sentiment. 

‘You have lost your kidding privileges!’ Natasha informed him, swatting him on the shoulder. 

Putting his hand on his chest as though shocked, Tony replied.

‘They were privileges?’ 

‘Big heart, no filter,’ you reiterated your original statement as the discussion continued. 

Even once he had managed to stop shaking and his growl had lessened to a disgruntled hum, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to let you go and you didn’t seem in any rush to pull away. However, now that his vision had widened to its usual ratio and his thoughts had a little more freedom to roam, they were running circles around him or rather, just the one thought repeated over and over, again.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

He had nearly just torn the guy apart, the guy who had sourced all the pup stuff that you had needed before they had even got you out of Siberia, pup proofed your apartment in your absence, clothed the three of you without being asked. 

And how had it not occurred to him that he might be an alpha?

Maybe he hadn’t thought that the average alpha would be quite so bold as to do any of that stuff for an omega with a clear connection to another alpha, let alone one that had just had that alpha’s pup. Though, from what you had said and what little Bucky had just witnessed, it was perhaps safe to say that Tony was anything but the average alpha. Still, that didn’t stop him wanting to shred every piece of clothing that touched skin, be it yours, Angel’s or his own.

Once he had calmed sufficiently to pull back just enough to look at you, Bucky took you in for a moment before dropping his forehead to yours. 

Had any other alpha reacted the same way to the same situation, he would have been forgiving but he wasn't exactly the average alpha either. He could only hope that he hadn't etched the wrong kind of mark on his record.

‘M’sorry,’ he managed to murmur. Having expended all that energy after having very little to spare to start with, he felt like he had been thoroughly steamrollered.

‘You were provoked. That’s not on you,’ you replied, releasing one arm from around his neck to push a few flyaway strands of hair out of his face before craning your neck to give your friend a stern look.

Maybe he shouldn't be revelling in that but he was too tired to do anything but enjoy the possessive gesture. 

Receiving three similar looks - that Bucky could see, at least - Tony gave a deep sigh and looked Bucky in the eyes.

‘Okay. I’m an ass. I’m sorry,’ he said with the slight air of a teenager who had been caught out doing something that they shouldn’t, ‘well, that’s what Nat told me to say, anyway.’

The addition prompted Natasha to swat him on the shoulder, again but Bucky couldn’t deny that despite his sharp tongue, the look in Tony’s eyes seemed sincere enough.

 _Big heart. No filter_ , Bucky reminded himself. 

Searching out your daughter, Bucky found her exactly where you said she would be. In her crib with one of her acquired uncles standing at the end of each of the beds on either side of her. The almost bodyguard-like stance that they had both taken up didn’t seem conscious as their expressions relaxed at either seeing the situation resolved or simply having been reassured that the catalyst for the disturbance was not them.

‘Anyway,’ Tony began, seeming to want to break the awkward silence that had fallen over that side of the room, ‘welcome back. And welcome to the world, Oh Minuscule One. Make yourself at home, throw up on whatever you like,' he said, waving past her two lookouts before addressing you again. ‘She got a name, yet?’

‘We’re working on it.’ 

Seeming satisfied enough with what was perhaps as close to an apology as Tony seemed to be able to give, your stern expression melted away, even more so when you looked over Bucky’s shoulder at Angel. 

‘Not rushing in, good call. Admirable. But if I might suggest -’

‘We’re not calling her Antonia,’ you replied. The rising giggles from your team mates lifting the mood averted Bucky’s remerging urge to growl at the suggestion. 

Tony gave you a big smile and lazy finger guns.

‘Still sharp. We’ve missed that. You know, being the only one on the team who can come up with a good killing blow line is exhausting and talk about the pressure! But I digress. In other news, your apartment is finished,’ he announced with what seemed like genuine and almost child-like excitement. ‘How’d you like to take that pup of yours home?’ 

For a moment you looked like you might just burst into tears and Bucky couldn’t help but pull you into his chest just a little more.

‘I’d love that.’ 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, lovelies, I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's!
> 
> I had most of this written up before yesterday but posting anything even remotely angsty on Valentine's Day always feels a bit like poor form so, I held it back 😂
> 
> In this chapter we have: implied needles, a couple of brief blood mentions, a smidge of fluff, angst, nightmares I guess...?? And IDIOTS (!!!) in love. 
> 
> Don't hate me guys 🙏🙏😐

'I'm not gonna kill anyone,' Bucky heard himself say above the blood rushing in his ears.

Wood was no opponent for vibranium as he punched through the floor by Steve's shoulder, grabbing the backpack hidden there for just such an emergency.

Steve jumped to his feet, still every bit the little guy from Brooklyn encased in the much bigger body of Captain America. The suit was different to the one that Bucky saw in the Smithsonian and the memories that he had painstakingly uncovered but its message was the same:

"Give me your trust and I will fight until you are saved."

Bucky’s heart sank all eight floors beneath his feet.

_You can't save me this time, punk._

The part of Bucky that wasn’t screaming to tear the other alpha limb from limb wanted to be able to look his oldest friend in his pleading eyes and tell him everything, confide in him why he had to keep running no matter how much the clawing pain in his chest grew with every forced step. However, to give life in words rather than lay to rest in ink and the blood that his fingers cried from frantically erasing what he had put to paper, was a temptation that he couldn't afford. 

The clock was ticking. 

Bucky could feel it in the tightening of his lungs and the cold sweat that always began around the side of his neck and emanated outwards. 

He had to get out of there before he lost the strength or the will to even try. 

Reminding himself of the consequences of inaction had been the only thing that had kept him moving. If he needed to cling to that horror like a life jacket to a drifting man just to make his feet move then he would do it to his increasingly likely peril.

The subtle beginnings of the terrifyingly familiar tickling at his nose had Bucky freezing in his poised to flee position. Where his feet had been reluctant to move before, they now felt rooted to the bare boards. The warm, bone deep ache gave way to blood stilling dread when the door crashed open as though kicked from the other side. 

He was too late. 

Even if he ran as fast as he could, pursued both on foot and by air with instinct demanding that he run in the exact opposite direction than he must, surrendering to just laying himself down and allowing himself to be caught was an unacceptable certainty.

Out of time and all out of options, the only small comfort that he could take from what he was about to do was that the harm he would cause would be nothing on what would come if he didn’t. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bucky thought as loud as he possibly could, however fruitless an exercise that might be.

_I’m so sorry._

_*_

Bucky opened his eyes to a cacophony of wailing squawks. 

For a moment he had no idea where he was, the dreaming steps that had felt so real as he had walked them conflicting with what his bleary eyes were showing him. Then the scents of sweet cherries, cut grass and melted sugar lulled him into a sense of peace that his body knew even before his brain could catch up. Another scent mingled to a lessening extent with those that brought him the unfathomable combination of soothing overwhelm and intense calm. However, that of apple blossom and cool desert nights underpinned by the clear tones of omega negated any need for more than the most perfunctory tension. 

Blinking his eyes clear, the sight before him grounded his wandering consciousness in to the bedrock of his beating heart. 

You picked your daughter up from the changing mat and rocked her in the cradle of your arms as Bruce apologised profusely for being the cause of her discomfort and placed a red-filled vial into a metal pot of gathered samples. 

Now he remembered.

Bruce was scheduled to stop by for your daughter's daily tests so, you had opted to wait in order to allow Tony the time to organise some “finishing touches” to your otherwise ready apartment. Bucky’s inner alpha might still feel more than a little testy about that but, once everyone had left and you had closed the door behind them, he hadn’t had the energy to do anything but let you lead him to his bed beside the still dozing pup. 

His last waking image came to him like a mirage. 

You sat down on the edge of the mattress after guiding his head down onto the pillow. He felt your fingers in his hair - they had been finding their way there a lot, lately - and Bucky had no inclination to discourage them. 

‘Get some sleep,’ you had said. 

While he might have been concerned that despite your words at the time, you could be annoyed about how he had reacted to Tony, the smile on your face was nothing but warm, accepting and...something else. To his eyes it looked something akin to hopeful but perhaps he had been too emotionally exhausted by his little growling fit to accurately discern the complexities of your expression.

‘Yeah, you tell ‘em, Angel Cakes,’ he slurred, coming back to the present and prompting you to turn and face him. 

‘Hey. Feeling better?’

The smile that you gave him seemed both tender and a little nervous but then again, you did have a thoroughly unimpressed pup to contend with. Your feet seemed to move before you realised what they were doing as you made your way over to him and perched on the edge of the bed. Bucky’s right hand moved just as autonomously, reaching up to take one tiny hand between his thumb and forefinger. Gently massaging her palm, he soothed her with understanding words and soft shushes while you tried to get her to take the brand new pacifier that Bucky could only assume had been a belated addition to Tony’s impressive body of gifts. After a couple of goes she seemed to get the hang of it, quieting in favour of clumsily suckling. 

Checking in with himself, Bucky concluded that though, he felt by no means a spring chicken, he did feel suspiciously rested.

‘How long was I out?’ 

‘Three or four hours.’ 

‘What? Why didn’t you wake me up? You’ve gotta be exhausted!’ Bucky exclaimed, horrified by the implications. ‘Please tell me I didn’t sleep through her crying?’

‘No, you didn’t,’ you reassured him, another mirage-like smile pinching at your cheeks, ‘you woke up but I was trying to feed her and Bruce was here anyway so, I told you to go back to sleep.’ 

‘And I listened?’

That drew out a chuckle. 

‘You were too tired to do anything else. Could do worse than making a habit of it, though.’

Bucky felt himself smiling back, however, he could feel from the set of his mouth that it was tainted by the dragging concern that he had left you unsupported for what was quite a long period in pup time. ‘Don’t act like you weren’t walking her around half the night so that I could sleep longer because J.A.R.V.I.S knows who to suck up to.’ 

Bucky looked up to the ceiling out of habit. 

‘Lousy snitch.’ 

‘I prefer unwelcome informant,’ the A.I. responded. 

‘Better get these back to the lab,’ Bruce said, seeming reluctant to interrupt, ‘but I’ll check in on you and bring you the results so far in the morning, okay?’ 

‘Okay.’

‘Sure.’ 

‘Oh, and I bumped into Tony on the way over. He said that he’s done doing...whatever it was he was doing so, just give him a call when you're ready to go home. Apparently, there’s some stuff he needs to talk you through.’ 

The initial hints of anxiety prickled in your scent, causing your otherwise soothed pup to stir. 

‘Um...sure, I’ll call him in a little while when we’re done packing in here.’

As Bruce made his goodbyes, Bucky observed you with interest. 

He thought you were excited to go home? 

The words that you spoke to Angel as you tried to soothe her back to sleep again only seemed to confirm that. You told her about all the things that she had to look forward to once you were back in your own space; the books that you would read to her, the musical education that you would ensure that she got because “only the best tunes for my Pupper”. Not to mention her first bath, first playdate with Clint's pups, first steps and, naturally, getting her proper name. 

Yet, the longer you spoke, the more biting your anxious undertones and increasingly agitated your daughter became. 

‘Why don’t we swap for a while,’ you said, urging him away from where he had been emptying the drawers that he had previously filled and insistently placing her in his arms. ‘J.A.R.V.I.S, could you turn on the extractor, please?’

‘Of course, Agent Y/L/N.’

In moments the air began to clear and not just the scent of anxiety. You, your pup, Bucky and his protective warning scent, it all began to dissipate as the near silent system drained the room, replacing it with fresh and sterile air. It was oddly off putting, however, with your daughter basking in Bucky’s scent bubble, you both had a much less flustered pup on your hands as a result. 

Back to his familiar pacing route, Bucky turned it all over in his mind. 

During his rushed self-schooling while you were coming out of stasis, he was sure that he had read somewhere that leaving even a temporary den for the first time could be incredibly anxiety inducing for an omega. The instincts that demanded that all potential dangers be considered and defended against likely made no account for the fact that you were amongst friends in one of the most well-defended buildings in the world. He couldn’t say that he was immune to those instincts either though, as the experience with Tony had proven, they manifested themselves in a much more confrontational manner. 

Bucky wanted nothing more than to reassure you that wherever the three of you may end up, he would never let anything happen to you. However, with his initial enquiries having been repeatedly shrugged off with assurances that you were fine and those emotional walls feeling like they towered higher than ever, he wasn’t sure what to do for the best.

Whether your time in captivity had left you more guarded in accepting help or whether it had simply compounded what Claire had implied was an already strong aspect of your personality, this wasn't one of those times when he could just lift you off you feet and demonstrate that you could depend on him.

For lack of a better idea he looked around himself for inspiration.

He had been taking his cues a lot from Clint when it came to his newfound fatherhood but in reality that wasn’t the only thing that he was new to. 

Thinking back to Bruce’s recovery on the jet, Natasha had cared and fussed over him in true alpha fashion but while there seemed to be no friction between the established pair, there had still come a point where Bruce began insisting that he could manage on his own. 

_I can handle it._

Natasha had altered her approach accordingly, held space around her omega in a gesture of silent emotional support that respected his wishes and abilities. And even as run-down as he was and in such difficult circumstances, Bruce had thrived in taking the best care of you.

Maybe taking a leaf out of the more experienced alpha’s book was the way forward?

Resolving to do just that, to keep an eye on you but otherwise provide you with a safe space to come to him when you were ready, Bucky continued pacing until the angel in his arms was happily snoozing. 

Bucky had just managed to put her down without her waking up again when a quiet voice came from behind him. 

‘Can I...uh...talk to you for a minute?’ 

You were standing a couple of feet behind him, clearly trying not to disturb her.

‘Yeah, sure,’ he whispered after stepping away from her crib for the same reason.

For a moment you stood there wordlessly knitting your fingers together only to separate them over and over again. Your wide eyes looked back at him as a fresh plume of anxiety radiated outwards. Taking a quick glance at your sleeping pup, you beckoned him to follow you. You led him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him just enough to limit how much noise would reach her keen little ears whilst still being able to see her clearly. 

In the small space, the bubble of anxiety around you was so strong that it made Bucky realise just how effective the extractor system had truly been. 

‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ He asked, placing both hands on your shoulders. 

You opened your mouth to speak and stopped before the words could form, giving it some thought before proceeding. 

‘It’s not so much a “the matter” thing as it is an “I need to say something and don’t know where to start” thing.’ 

Even mid-labour Bucky didn’t think that he had seen you quite this nervous before. You looked like you were about to bite a seriously heavy duty bullet.

Trying to channel his own building unease back into his protective instincts, Bucky let his hands move over your arms in a gesture that he couldn't say who it was intended to sooth. 

‘It’s okay. Take your time.’ 

After taking a few moments to breathe, you finally looked back to him. 

‘Okay...uh, the thing is...I mean, what I want to...no, what I _need_ to say is...’

With a deep sigh you seemed to force yourself to commit to whatever words you really wanted to get out. ‘I want you to know that you and Pupper, you're meant to be together.’

_Okay...?_

Shrugging his hands from your shoulders, you took them in both of yours. ‘You're her Dad and she’s gonna need you and I know we’ve not known each other very long but I really want you to believe me when I say that whatever happens, I’d never ever get in the way of that.'

_No._

_Oh God, no._

For once Bucky thought that he was the one who was going to be doing the throwing up. His stomach felt like it was caving in on itself while his heart squeezed so hard in his chest that he could barely breathe. 

His brief and fleeting wondering from just before you had touched down came back to him with a brutal vengeance. That you might start feeling differently towards him once she was born, that the instinctive bond with the father of your pup may begin to waver when his scent began to dissipate wasn’t a possibility that he had seriously considered since. 

Things had seemed to be going okay. 

Had he been imagining all that?

As you searched for whatever words were coming next, the realisation hit him.

Oh God, the emotional walls.

He had put them down to you feeling like he had abandoned you in Siberia but he had never actually asked you or addressed it. 

Could he have misread that so badly? 

Had you known that the connection that he had felt between you was temporary all along and you just hadn’t managed to find the right time to say it?

_No, no, no..._

Bucky just wanted to pull you into his arms and beg you not to do it, to please just think about it, to give him a chance! But then you squeezed his hands in yours and it felt like watching the guillotine fall. ‘I just didn’t want to go any further without saying that we don’t have to force this to be something it’s not, okay? But if I’m being really honest -’

_No!_

_No!_

‘No!’

You looked back at him in wide eyed shock. 

Fuck, had he really said that last one out loud? 

For a long moment Bucky looked down at the tile floor, fighting to compose himself. No matter which way he swung it in his head, there was nothing that he could say that wouldn’t end in you pulling further away from him. If he pushed you to reconsider then it would only damage whatever amicable relationship you could have, the kind of relationship that you needed to maintain if you both wanted to be a part of your daughter’s life.

So, he found himself thinking once again, if what he had to do was swallow down every jagged piece of his broken heart in order to give his daughter the stability that she deserved after such a rocky beginning, then could he ever justify doing anything else? ‘No...uh, you’re right. We don’t.’ 

He wasn’t sure how long you both stood there but it was long enough for the thick, anxious smog to begin to dissipate. 

Eventually, you let go of his hands and the loss of the sensation of your fingers around his felt like a final and crippling blow. 

‘Okay. I’m glad we, um, cleared that up.’

Quickly backing up, you cleared your throat and gestured towards the door. ‘I’ll go call Tony.’

Not able to trust his voice to speak without crumbling, Bucky gave you as unaffected a nod as he could manage. You turned and went to rejoin your daughter who was hopefully completely oblivious to the goings on of the adult world around her. 

Bucky locked the door even if everything in him loathed having the physical barrier between you.

Already arming himself with the excuse of nature making an opportune call, he gave himself a minute to convince his eyes to stay dry and order his thoughts. The only problem was that his head was unusually quiet and the noise had migrated south into his chest, jabbing at the cracking embers of what burned there.

Laying his head against the tiled wall, he buried his hands in his hair and tried to get a hold on himself. He would have to face the world, face you soon enough and pretend that everything was okay and not for the first time in recent days, Bucky felt completely out of his depth.

How the hell was he supposed to get through this without falling apart?


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, my lovelies! 
> 
> I hope you're all well and have like, maybe forgiven me a little bit...? 😅
> 
> Things are a bit hit and miss right now as we are getting our new house soon (yaaaay!) and I keep getting called upon to adult (booooo!) but being on hold is surprisingly good writing time it turns out so we'll see how it goes 😂
> 
> Anyway, in today's chapter we have: angst, a smidge of fluff, Tony being Tony, a smutty reference of the implied variety and naturally more of these Grade A Idiots.
> 
> Much love x

'And I totally retrofitted that sheep thing. I mean, one white noise setting just isn't enough and batteries? Please...'

You let Tony talk as you walked down the hall towards your room. Listening a bit more intently would probably be advantageous. You really did have the best friends and you felt pretty bad that you didn't have it in you right now to show your appreciation better.

Thankfully, Tony - who had made the wise choice of giving you a wide berth as he lead the way to your room - hadn't pegged your crestfallen mood for anything more than exhaustion. That you were too miserable to be anxious anymore thus, masking the Cavern of Perpetual Implosion formally known as your chest cavity was an odd saving grace but it was something. Were Tony to go into full tactless blockhead mode you might just have a total meltdown and it wouldn’t end there. The whole sorry tale would end up coming out; Tony would get mad at Bucky for “making them cry”, Bucky would get mad at Tony for having the audacity to exist near your pup and what would happen then?

Carnage, that’s what.

Dealing with the aftermath of two beaten to a pulp alphas, a trashed Avengers Tower and a lifetime of mortification on top of nursing a broken heart and a screaming pup was, needless to say, not your idea of a good time!

And for the first time, having Bucky so close wasn’t either.

He had positioned himself in such a way that his scent bubble surrounded you completely. Walking slightly behind you, Tony was visible at all times and quickly defended against if necessary as well as cutting out the possibility of anyone sneaking up on you and the pup in your arms without going through him first.

That his behaviour hadn’t seemed to change all that much shouldn’t hurt this badly but it just hit home even harder how wrong you had been to hope.

Feelings or no feelings, Bucky wouldn’t shy away from anything that he saw as his responsibility. That was just the kind of person that he was. Having Steve’s back for all those years was a prime example. That the omega in you wanted more than that...

No, you couldn't keep blaming your omega. 

Not if you were really being honest but with you barely holding yourself together as it was, brutal self-honesty probably wasn’t the best idea, right now. Less so when you considered having to get through your first night in your old-yet-new home with all the stresses of diaper changes and a ravenous feeding schedule whilst in the constant company of the love of your life that, oh yeah, had no fucking interest in you whatsoever. 

He hadn’t even let you finish.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so surprised by that.

In hindsight, there wasn’t actually anything that had happened between you that you could pin down as unambiguously romantic. He hadn’t hit you with a _‘Mega_ since Pupper was born and getting a bit growly and nearly tearing Tony apart? Well, that was all pretty standard alpha stuff under the circumstances. Even when he had tried to hammer home to you that you weren’t alone anymore, he had gone as far as to correct himself.

 _...what your alpha’s here for, what_ I’m _here for..._

Giving your head a good shake, you made yourself focus on the task at hand.

Pupper had to be your main priority. 

Even if she was too young to know what heartbreak was, she would pick up on your turmoil and having her unsettled any more than necessary wasn’t something that you were prepared to entertain. ‘You still with me, Slugger, or do I need to print you out a pamphlet?’

The comment sounded sarcastic but you could hear the uniquely Tony consideration in his voice. If you had indeed needed a pamphlet then a pamphlet would be what you got. 

‘I think I’m good but words of one syllable or less would be appreciated.’ 

The yawn that took you by surprise only strengthened your alibi. 

‘Interpretive dance it is,’ he replied, with flailing arms and a lazy leap that somehow still managed to look borderline graceful. 

Pupper chose that moment to start fussing. It had been a whole thirty minutes since her last meal time, after all. ‘Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,’ Tony appealed to her from a safe distance, ‘me and you need to have a serious discussion about art, young lady.’ 

As you soothed your pup, you tried not to be too aware of what Bucky was doing but the flair in his scent, obvious only for being in an environment that wasn’t saturated with it, was hard to ignore. Tony was, of course, completely oblivious, practically skipping ahead as you neared your door. 

‘Now, I’ve made a few improvements. Hard to improve on perfection, I know, but God, I am just that good.’ 

On any other day you might have pulled his arrogant leg for that comment but you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your mouth. 

Tony was giving it extra, going so far as to pose as his own glamourous assistant complete with wavy arms and sassy hip wiggles as he indicated the shiny new door. ‘Adamantium reinforced, J.A.R.V.I.S controlled with voice activated override and fully upgraded security features, including the Baby Gate Protocol for when this little ankle biter starts doing the whole walking thing and your nightmares truly begin. And as for my personal favourite, this one’s for you, Frosty...’

Tony gave Bucky a wink before standing directly in front of the door. He pulled back one shirt sleeve and wafted his other hand around the scent gland there like the curator of fine wine, his expression set in an enthusiastic _wait for it...wait for it..._

After about a second, several things happened at once; the warning light on the ceiling above - usually reserved for emergencies and fire drills - started whirring, the physical locks on the door loudly thumped into place and a small holographic screen appeared before you echoing the sentiment of the computerised voice that called out:

‘Alpha detected!’

What sounded like a lion’s growl completed the floor show. 

Pupper wiggled in your arms, not entirely sure what to make of the sound that she recognised as oddly similar to her father’s but clearly not similar enough to be his. 

Tony looked thoroughly impressed with himself as he turned back to the two of you. 

You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at the reminder of that protective incident that had led you to your current, grief stricken state and you daren’t even look at Bucky to see what his silence meant. 

Standing there for a moment, Tony raised his arms proudly at his sides before registering the lack of reaction. 

‘Really? Not even a...? Was it too soon?’ 

With a melodramatic sigh he swiped the screen out of the way. ‘Just can’t get the crowds these days. J.A.R.V.I.S, open her up.’

A few sharp clicks heralded the unlocking of the door before it opened, letting loose the mild smell of fresh paint.

You felt your mouth fall open as your feet carried you in. The wall that had previously separated your room from Steve’s next door was gone. What was once a small living area with a sofa and a coffee table was now an open plan living room and kitchen-diner. Everything was shiny, new and either top of the range or a clearly a Tony purpose build. 

You looked around in awe as he talked you through all the “new toys” that any freshly inducted parent could possibly want or need from the safety of the doorway.

Bottle steriliser and warmer; heated nursing pillow; massaging recliner; fully stocked medical supplies; cupboard doors programmed to only open for adults; dimmer lights above; nightlights built into the skirting boards below; self rocking Moses basket; a “comprehensive catalogue” of projections, lullabies and whale music; a book shelf crammed with every baby book imaginable; a wicker toy basket filled to bursting; a months supply of fresh folded muslin; a years supply of pacifiers because, apparently, Clint had told him that for all the paci-clips on Earth you would end up losing a lot of those; more diapers than you could shake a stick at plus a host of other little luxuries like a dishwasher, huge fridge-freezer and a standing agreement with the dry cleaner down the street, charged to Stark Industries, of course. 

And those were just the bits of the extensive rundown that your overwhelmed brain managed to process! 

He hadn’t spared any cost or ignored any detail all the way down to pre-emptively covering anything that could remotely be considered a corner, hiding every wire and putting covers on all the plug sockets which, were again locked for adult usage only. 

All sustainable, voice activated, automatic or hands free.

If you didn't know Tony, you might have asked how he had the time to organise all of this but you knew Tony. The guy basically never slept. 

Hearing Bucky pad in behind you and take a turn around the new environment - no doubt assessing any potential dangers as he filled the space with his warning scent - you decided to go and check out the new room that had materialised across from your bedroom. 

‘WOAH!’

Bucky suddenly appeared at your side as you jumped back a step. 

‘What’s wrong?’ He asked, seemingly unaware of the hand that he placed on your back. 

Following your gaze, his reaction nearly rivalled yours. ‘What the...!’

The beautiful pup’s room was decorated in soft, linen whites with a solid wood crib adorned with a mobile featuring the felt effigies of her live-in aunt and uncles in addition to the aforementioned “sheep thing”. The room also boasted a changing table, built in closets and an almost full wall of wooden letters that read:

_Was going to put a name here so you guys just let me know when you get your s!*@ together._

However, you both looked past all of it to the cause of your bewilderment. 

A giant, stuffed rabbit. 

Sitting in one corner of the room, it stood floor to ceiling, it’s floppy brown ears cascading almost down to it’s hips. 

And in it’s lap sat an iron man suit. 

‘Um, Tony, I think you might have misplaced something,’ you called back to him and received a muffled chuckle in return. 

‘J.A.R.V.I.S, activate the Poppins Protocol.’

The suit stood, its chest and eyes lighting up. 

Bucky tensed and tried to pull you behind him, anxiety and warning ravaging his scent. 

Without thinking, you placed your hand on his arm to reassure him. 

You had looked at him before you realised your mistake.

Since he had remerged from the bathroom, you had done a good job of avoiding doing just that. Now, with him gazing back at you while an increasingly awkward air built between you, you remembered why you had tried so hard to avoid it. 

Seeming to become aware of the unconsciously instigated contact at the same time, you each removed your hand from the other before turning back to the mechanised spectacle.

The suit went full transformer, shifting from the humanoid suit to a rocking horse, a walker and then a toddler sized sports car before working its way back to its original form.

‘It also has sentinel capabilities should you ever have to, you know, leave Pup for two seconds because you left the stove on and are about to burn the whole place down,’ Tony informed you, ‘plus, its abdominal cavity is designed to be a pup panic room should the need ever arise.’

The suit’s chest opened up to demonstrate. ‘Got it’s own oxygen supply, feeding capabilities, waste recycling system, totally temperature controlled and don’t forget the built in entertainment suite. Should be enough room in there until she’s about five. Well, that is unless she takes after tall, dark and growly and is already six-foot-two by then.’ 

‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ Bucky breathed though, his tone seemed significantly flatter than when you had introduced him to the wonders of holo-vision.

Apparently, that nap hadn’t done him much good after all.

‘And don’t worry, Frosty, I didn’t forget about you. Go checkout the bedroom.’

Oh God, what had he done? 

Taking the few tentative steps to your room, you almost looked around the doorframe with one eye closed. To your surprise, it looked almost the same as you had left it with the addition of the Moses basket that tony had mentioned. He had also expanded your closet, the one door that was ajar showcasing the selection of perfectly Bucky sized clothes and shoes. Whereas you might have expected that to be what kicked you in the gut, what nearly floored you was the view through the open bathroom door. 

Twin sinks.

Where your single sink and cabinet had been was now a sleek, marble surface with two sinks cut into it.

Two sinks.

Two tooth brushes. 

Two towels. 

The lump that you had managed to ignore since drying your eyes, swelled in your throat. You felt yourself shuffle awkwardly as you held your breath, desperate to keep it down. 

It took you a whole long minute to answer Tony when he gave you an expectant:

‘What do you think?’

In your peripheral vision you could see Bucky doing the starey thing in your direction and you were careful not to meet his gaze as you looked back to your friend. 

‘It’s...it’s perfect. Thank you, Tony. For everything.’ 

The smile that Tony gave you back was all soft and proud big brother as he waved his hand dismissively. 

‘Well, it was largely self-serving. Got to keep the whole Tony Stark has a heart image up somehow.’ 

It never stopped amazing you how soft and humble Tony could be when he let his guard down. It was a shame that Howard Stark had done such a number on him that few people really got to see that side of the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Perhaps realising that he had done just that in front of someone that he barely knew, he took a couple of steps back, that sassy tilt to his shoulders back in force. ‘I’ll just leave you two love birds to it, you know, in case you wanna get right on with making another one of those.’ 

You took it all back. 

Tony was an ass.

With a wide grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows, he silently deflected the glare that you shot him before he disappeared around the corner and the door closed behind him. 

The silence, broken only by a fresh bout of low key-fussing, was painful.

After a moment you forced yourself to look at Bucky, giving him an apologetic shrug on behalf of your friend’s characteristic lack of filter. 

He looked completely stunned, his cheeks getting increasingly more flushed as the moment dragged on. 

It was only then that it hit you that you hadn't thought as far as the practicalities.

How was this supposed to work?

Should you offer him the couch?

Would he _fit_ on the couch?

Just as your brain was about to explode with variables, each more mortifying than the last, he raised one vibranium finger before muttering almost too quiet for you to hear.

‘I’ll, uh, be right back.’

And with that parting statement, he jogged out in the direction that Tony had gone. 

After a moment of listening by the door you thankfully heard no tell tale signs of the carnage that you had predicted. 

‘Come on then, Pupper,’ you whispered through the still heavy lump in your throat, ‘let’s get you fed.’ 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yet again, I say hello, my lovelies!
> 
> So, it transpires that being on hold is surprisingly conducive to knocking out an entire chapter 😂 and I couldn't see the point in holding it back since it's just sitting here ready to go.
> 
> In today's bonus chapter *apologetic jazz hands* you will find: angst. A smidge of fluff but mostly angsty fluff, ngl. A touch more Tony. Let's just assume that they're both idiots until I manage to knock their heads together (I'm working on it but they're stubborn buggers! *sighs*)
> 
> Much love x

Bucky caught up with Tony in a couple of strides. 

‘Tony?’ 

The other alpha turned to face him. He seemed both surprised to find himself followed but also a little wary, perhaps expecting Bucky to tear him a strip off for that last wisecrack but apart from a sharp stab of pain and a some residual embarrassment, the man’s big mouth was the least of his concerns. 

Now that he knew how you felt about him, walking around your home had felt like an intrusion, more so for the way that your space had been “improved” to accommodate him. It had clearly made you uncomfortable and seeing that had only dragged his his heart a little deeper into his boots. 

Though necessary, a very alpha driven part of him balked not only at the idea of implementing what he was about to suggest but also that he was about to say it to yet another alpha who had done a much better job of taking care of you and your pup than he had.

_So old fashioned._

Your words came back to him almost as soon as the thought passed through. His frame of reference for alpha-omega relations in the present day was flimsy at best but he could imagine that him feeling that way might seem more than a little outdated to you. Maybe that mindset was something that had gone against him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel it all the same. ‘Hey, can I, uhm, ask you something?’ 

‘Sure, Frosty. Fire away.’

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the nickname but he tossed it to the bottom of his heap of priorities. Suddenly unsure how to go about this he opted for the safest opener. 

‘Thank you for everything you’ve done. I mean, that place is...’ Bucky ran out of words. That apartment was like nothing he had ever seen. ‘Just...thank you.’

Bucky wasn’t sure if it was his tone that made Tony relax into a less guarded mood or if he was just less of an exhibitionist when you happened to catch him alone.

‘No problem,’ Tony replied, with a slap on his shoulder, ‘they’re practically family, wouldn’t let them go without.’ 

Feeling the silence drag out, Bucky struggled to force the next part through his lips. ‘Was there something else?’ 

‘I...uh...don’t want to impose on you any more but...would you...would you happen to have a...um...a spare room?’

It took a moment for Tony to really catch on to his meaning it was so unfathomable, then his eyes widened in realisation. 

‘Trouble in paradise?’

For a split second Bucky felt the irrational urge to unload his burdens just to have them perhaps not halved but at least shared. However, in a team, a family this size and this close to boot, it could spread like wildfire and you might not want that. Frankly, neither did he. Plus he barely knew this alpha and in addition to the basics of social etiquette, he couldn’t override the instinct that warned against giving him any "ideas". 

‘It’s just...they’ve been through a lot and everything’s happened so fast. This was their space before any of this and...’ Bucky searched for the only words that his lips would allow him to speak. ‘I just want to respect that, you know?’ 

Tony thought on that half-truth for a moment before seeming to accept Bucky’s reasoning. 

‘And they say chivalry is dead, huh? I’m gonna go right on and assume that you still want close.’

He barely gave Bucky the chance to nod before barrelling on with the arrangements and beckoning him to follow. ‘J.A.R.V.I.S, set him up for Rhodey’s room.’

The A.I. responded before they reached the nearest door. 

‘Done, Sir.’ 

The door opened as they neared and Tony led him in. 

It was about half the size of your place, comprising of a living area, bedroom and he assumed, an en suite bathroom. The furniture was covered in dust sheets, the walls housing only sporadic, generic paintings lending an extreme air of vacancy. 

‘We’ve had it mothballed for a while, Rhodey’s too busy for sleep overs these days. But I can get some people in to clean it up a little.’

It was already late and Bucky couldn’t say that having an audience to his misery was a particularly appealing thought. 

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you.’ 

After giving him directions for the common room, gym and talking him through whatever tech that he might need to use, Tony backed out of the door, again.

‘Welcome to the family. Oh, and just so you know, flicking mashed potato at Banner on Thanksgiving is compulsory.’ 

Once he was alone, Bucky didn’t even take in his new...he wasn’t sure that he could bring himself to call it his home...and headed straight back the way he had come. 

When he got to your door, he was ready to knock but it automatically opened to him. 

You had you daughter on your shoulder, laid on one of the muslin sheets that Tony had mentioned as you walked her around, patting her back. 

‘Tony’s given me a room down the hall. Uh, Rhodey’s old room,’ he added figuring that you would know who Tony had been talking about. Then he gestured through to the bedroom. ‘So, I’ll just go and get some things, okay?’ 

You took him in at great length before offering him a tight smile. ‘Sure.’ 

Finding an overnight bag in the bottom of the closet, Bucky filled it with a couple of shirts, a pair of jeans, sneakers. He wouldn’t be unhappy to ditch his boots and the only remaining vestige of his Winter Soldier attire. He was surprised - though, getting steadily less so - that Tony had even thought to provide him with things like socks, underwear, pyjamas, deodorant, shampoo and a shaving kit. 

When he was done he followed the sound of gentle shushes through to Angel’s room. 

You were rocking her gently to sleep at the centre of slowly twirling projected stars that filled all four walls as well as the floor and ceiling. It might have had him fascinated if he could have drumed up the inclination to be interested. If he was honest, he wouldn’t have minded just standing there and watching for a little while, imprinting the beautifully domestic image in his memory even if it was only to torture himself with later. However, seeming to catch his scent, you turned to face him before he stepped in the room. 

‘Guess we’ll see you tomorrow then.’ 

It was half question, half statement. Bucky didn’t even get the chance to say that he would get J.A.R.V.I.S to call him every time that she woke in the night, that he would be back as soon as you needed him. That the option didn’t seem to be on the table hurt more than anything. 

‘Yeah. You will.’

Still, there was no way that he was leaving without saying a proper good night to his daughter. Stepping over to the two of you, he laid his flesh hand carefully on her head before leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. The strength of your scent as he hovered close overwhelmed him so much that he almost cracked and said that he didn’t want to go but, viciously getting a handle on himself, he managed to hold it in. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Angel. Be a good girl until I get back, okay?’

She kicked her legs and gave a little mumble that he chose to take as a promise. 

Pulling away from both of you was agony. 

How could it feel so much like moving out when he had never actually moved in?

Giving you one last nod, he got out of there as fast as he could without drawing attention to his urgency lest he never actually convince himself to leave. 

Thinking back over every time so far that he had managed to think that something was the hardest thing he had ever done just made him want to laugh in the most mirthless of ways. Even once the door of his new room was closed behind him, it was touch and go as to whether he would just turn around and walk straight back, again. Your scent had seemed to follow him and that it remained at a steady, low-grade level in his nose wasn’t making it any easier. Not that being without it would be any better, he had already learned that the hard way.

It occurred to him to busy himself removing dust sheets and making the place more liveable but the bigger part of him, the part that concentrated itself into the searing pain in his chest couldn’t see the point when there was nobody but himself to make it liveable for. Even in its current state, it was still a huge step up from the glorified dog bed that Hydra had him sleeping on. 

Pressing his palm against his sternum, he drooped down onto the still-covered couch and decided to busy himself in a more productive manner. ‘J.A.R.V.I.S?’

‘Yes, Sergeant Barnes. How may I assist you?’ The A.I. responded immediately. 

Even despite being in Avenger’s Tower for a couple of days, hearing himself referred to as Sergeant was going to take some getting used to.

‘How long ‘til morning?’

‘Dawn is six hours and forty-seven seconds away. Would you care for a countdown?’

Talk about intuitive.

‘Please. Am I locked out of the security feeds?’ 

‘Anyone may view security footage at any time.’

‘Can you pull me up the feeds from the corridor outside Y/N’s place and every possible route there?’

The projection screen that appeared before him contained seventy six separate feeds and a clock in the bottom corner, counting down in bright red numerals. ‘How about blueprints?’

A second window appeared showing several sets of plans. 

‘Would you like me to adjust for the remodelling that Mr Stark has done over the years?’

‘That would be perfect.’

With a flurry of shifting lines, the new prints were instantaneously accessible. ‘And can you talk me through your security protocols?’

‘Of course, though I must warn you they are rather extensive.’ 

‘I’ve got all night.’

And he had a feeling that it was going to be the longest of his life. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovelies, hello! 
> 
> It feels like it's been a while with this one, I hope you're all ok! Anyway, in today's chapter we have: an unhappy Pupper, feeding drama, stress, talk of post traumatic stress symptoms, problematic deliveries, cardiac arrest and...do I call it "mentions of temporary kind of sort of but not really reader death"?? IDK...Bruce being my adored little exposition pony. If you want anything tagging in this let me know as I wasn't sure how to tag this one. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Pupper just would not settle.

At one AM, she was crabby. 

At two, she was having the occasional sob. 

At three, she was having a damn good cry.

And by four?

She was wailing.

 _Wailing._

Nothing you did seemed to be making even the tiniest bit of difference. Not the rocking, the singing, the feeding...damn, the feeding. You were down to trying to feed her every twenty minutes - twenty minutes! - and every time she was just as ravenous as the last. 

It was starting to get more than uncomfortable. 

By the time you had changed her for what felt like the fortieth time with no improvement to her mood, you were about at the end of your tether.

Maybe she was just missing Bucky?

The thought had passed through more than once, however, despite having left at just before midnight, his lingering scent was still surprisingly strong. 

Surely that should be calming her at least a little bit? 

Then again, you couldn’t say that it was calming you, either. It felt like a sublimated trail of breadcrumbs, calling you to the one place that you couldn’t go while your inner omega was kicking off even more than Pupper was.

 _He’s mine!_ _He should be here! This is all wrong, wrong, wrong!_

They chanted as though having morphed into an overly dramatic teenager ready to flop onto the bed with the back of their hand pressed to their forehead. You wouldn’t have been surprised if they had started yelling at you that you were ruining their life but instead they gave you a weepily anxious plea. 

_Please. He’s my alpha. I need him._

Though the pain at Bucky’s rejection of you was shared, the inference that your ability to function was dependent on someone else wasn’t a welcome one. There was only one other time that you had ever felt this rocked and finding yourself without him in Avenger’s Tower didn’t feel as different to finding yourself alone in Siberia as you would like. 

That your anxiety levels were through the roof was only part of it. You couldn’t seem to help yourself from making regular sweeps of the door, windows, vents, anything that could be a sign of unauthorised entry on top of regularly asking J.A.R.V.I.S for confirmation that the cyber side of Tony’s meticulous security measures were intact. 

Of course! 

This might have nothing to do with Bucky. If you were throwing out stress like a solar flare then no wonder Pupper was ready to riot! 

You weren’t a complete stranger to coming out of a mission - or other run ins with miscellaneous bad guys - and having to readjust to living in the “normal” world again. When you looked at it that way, after almost a year in captivity was it really any wonder that you were still feeling unsafe? 

Not at all. 

Your unconsciously held feelings for Bucky must have just hit you in a soft spot when he bolted in Siberia and seeing him leave again now must have just hit the same button, pulled at that old - well, it felt old - association and so, your poor brain didn’t know what else to do but draw the same conclusion. 

Bucky gone = scary, dangerous situation.

Only it wasn’t dangerous anymore. 

You and Pupper were home and safe and that was all there was to it. 

Okay, you could handle this. 

You were an Avenger for fuck’s sake! 

You had defused bombs, stabilised countries, fought aliens. 

What was a bit of sleep deprivation and pup induced tinnitus compared to that?

 _I can do this. I can do this. I can do this!_ became your mantra, drowning out the contradictory pleas of your irate omega. You turned on the extractor, took a deep breath and hit the whale music, determined to calm yourself and therefore, your unsettled pup.

You had this! 

By five, you were banging your head against the wall. 

Literally.

She was still screaming and despite three consecutive attempts to feed her she was _still_ hungry, plus what had been moderate discomfort was now outright pain. Laid back in the recliner with her in your arms, you let your head fall back against the wall behind you with a heavy thud. 

‘I don’t have this.’ 

Thankfully, concerns over your pup eating sharpened the mind. The vague memory passed through your syrupy brain of the long list of things that Bruce had told you to watch out for and pain when feeding was up there on the “call me whatever time it is” section of the list. ‘J.A.R.V.I.S, call Bruce.’ 

It took him a while to answer, his voice rough and sleepy. 

‘Hey, what’s going -’

Hearing the state that Pupper was in, he suddenly sounded much more awake. ‘I’ll be right over,’ he said between thumps and “ouch”es that you assumed was Bruce trying to get dressed in the dark. ‘Tell me everything.’

You kept it brief, focusing on your feeding related worries and, true to form, Bruce was nothing if not supportive. ‘Okay, I might have a solution. I’m just stopping by the lab and I’ll be right there.’

It was ten minutes before he made it through your door, carrying a tin with a rubber lid. He looked around for a moment, the lack of a hovering Bucky clearly a surprise but with a screaming Pupper and you not so far behind, he didn’t ask any questions. 

Leaving the tin on the kitchen counter, he started rummaging through cupboards until he found a bottle. He scooped some white powder out of the tin and mixed it up with some water before placing the bottle in the microwave and instructing J.A.R.V.I.S to heat it up. ‘Try this,’ he said, handing it to you when it was done.

It took a few tries but eventually she figured out what to do with the new implement and started suckling, perhaps not happily but she wasn’t crying and that was definitely something.

‘Oh, I forgot what quiet sounds like,’ you mused, as she drained the bottle. 

Bruce placed a hand on each of your shoulders and gently urged you back into the recliner, the behaviour made necessary by the mush that seemed to have replaced your brain.

‘Been a rough night, huh?’ 

Where as you might ordinarily have responded with something along the lines of “what gave me away?”, you lacked the necessary brain power to make words let alone sarcastic ones so, you responded with a simple nod. ‘You managed to eat yet?’

Apparently, your painful efforts to access that information told him everything that he needed to know. ‘You just relax for a minute and I’ll throw something together.’

Three bottles and the stream of easily consumable foodstuffs that Bruce had managed to rustle up from whatever Tony had filled your fridge with - you hadn’t even managed to look in there yet - you were both satisfied in at least the digestive sense. 

Pupper, however, still wasn’t happy. 

Though her little eyes drooped and her waving arms seemed to grow heavier, she was fighting sleep every step of the way. ‘I remember Clint and Laura swearing by walking both theirs around the block. Wanna try a walk? Get some fresh air?’

After the night you’d had, you were willing to try anything once. 

You started changing Pupper into her snowsuit and woolly hat that J.A.R.V.I.S was good enough to help you locate while Bruce went back to fetch his jacket and boots. Having run down in his hastily thrown on sweats and bare feet to come to your aid, the guy deserved to be deified and you were hearing no arguments. 

Taking over while you got yourself sorted out, Bruce had dug out the pup carrier that was stored in the bottom of her closet and between you and a few bouts of hysterical laughter later, you managed to figure thing out.

Seriously, you had cracked safes less complicated! 

You felt your anxiety spike off the charts as you passed Rhodey’s, now Bucky’s, room. Your omega was crawling the walls begging you to just knock on the door and make everything okay but you forced them to the back of your mind with only enough success as to allow you to carry on walking. 

He had not only made his bed but had chosen to make it someplace else. Hurting or not, you wouldn’t entertain throwing yourself at the feet of any other alpha who didn’t want you so you weren’t going to do it for him, either. The end. 

By the time you reached the back entrance that the team used to avoid the gaggle of reporters that habitually hung out in the general vicinity of the main door, it hit you just how long you had been away. 

You had forgotten how busy New York could be even in the wee hours of the morning and after an extended stay in the ass end of the Siberian wilderness, it felt like Grand Central at rush hour. ‘You okay?’ Bruce asked, resting one hand reassuringly on your arm. 

‘Yeah,’ you responded, taking a moment to try and get the hypervigilant paranoia in check. Having been trained by Nat, scouring the area for anything suspicious, people, cars, windows, roof tops was so ingrained in you that you could do it in your sleep. However, this was the first time that you had walked out of the tower and had it come with a supersized side of anxiety. 

Reassuring yourself that it was just like getting used to daylight again, you started walking. ‘Yeah, I’ll be fine.’

Unsurprisingly, Pupper began to fuss as your anxious pheromones engulfed her but by the time you had made it to the end of the street she was beginning to lull into the beginnings of sleep. Whether it was down to the combined parental genius that was Clint and Laura, that she had simply worn herself out or that she really had just been hungry after all, wasn’t something that you were prepared to look the gift horse in the mouth over. Speaking of. ‘Thanks for the formula,’ you said as you passed what had a year ago been a decent deli and was now a second hand phone shop.

‘No problem, I’m just sorry that you had to have so hard a night. Turns out my projections for how hungry she was gonna get were a little off. I only finished working on it last night. In hindsight, it was just as well.’ 

‘You made it?’

‘It’s based on the shakes I need when I’m coming back from Hulking out. I just replaced the nutrients I need with the ones that she does and took out everything that wasn’t pup safe. Enhanced pups need enhanced calories so store bought wouldn’t satisfy her so well. It’s not quite as good as the real thing but it’s probably about as close as human hands are ever going to get. Hopefully, it’ll mean you get a bit of a break, though.’

You felt your eyes go a little wide at what perhaps should have been an obvious loophole in the whole non-super omega trying to feed a super pup dynamic. The logistics of trying to satiate a pup that not only grew bigger but even _hungrier_ didn’t compute. 

Could any omega on Earth realistically keep up with that? 

Probably not.

Carrying on in silence as you attempted to process all that, you made it a few hundred yards before Bruce spoke up, again. ‘You wanna talk about it?’

The tone in his voice told you that it wasn’t Pupper’s digestive escapades that he was referring to. 

‘I don’t know,’ you honestly replied. 

With an understanding smile, Bruce draped one arm over your shoulders and gave you a soft squeeze. There in silent solidarity, he just let you walk for as long as you wanted without pushing you for anything more. ‘I just don’t know how to handle things from here. I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve not been able to cut all ties, you know?’

‘Mind if I ask what happened?’ 

Thinking for a moment, you tried to find the best answer to his question and it was throat tighteningly simple. 

‘He didn’t want me.’ 

The more you continued the more Bruce’s face crunched up in both confusion and surprise. ‘He’s shacked up in Rhodey’s room, not coming back ‘til tomorrow. Well, today now, I guess.’ 

‘And he said that?’ 

Bruce looked at you like you had just told him that Vladimir Putin had resigned his office to go knit sweaters for sick penguins or something. 

‘Pretty much.’ 

Sitting down on the nearest bench, he had that look on his face that he tended to wear when he was trying to figure out something sciency and problematic. Nat called it the “Bruce smash”. He opened his mouth to speak more than a few times before descending back into yet more mental smashery. 

‘What’s going on in there?’ You eventually asked.

‘The solution doesn’t balance with the variable values.’

You couldn’t begin to guess how long you blank stared him. 

‘Yeah, I have no idea what that means.’

After a moment, he looked back to you. 

‘I don’t want to speak out of turn but...’

‘But?’

‘I find that really hard to believe.’ 

That threw you sideways a little, however, you ploughed through it. 

‘In full alpha mode anybody can seem a little -’

‘No, that’s not it,’ he replied, shaking his head and pressing his lips together. That was “gut feeling” Bruce all over, the Bruce that came out when he knew that something was off with an equation but wasn’t sure what yet. ‘It’s just...you know that “abridged version” that we talked about?’

You thought back to that first time that Bruce came to see you after you came out of stasis and the sketchy rundown of events that Bucky had given you. 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘Well...’ 

He paused for a long time and you could tell that whatever had actually happened he was worried about freaking you out.

‘Hey, I was going to ask you what really went down eventually, anyway So, just say whatever it is you’ve got to say.’ 

Knowing you well enough to hear the truth in your statement and also that once you had decided that you wanted all the details you wouldn’t settle for anything but, he relaxed just enough to allow himself to continue. 

‘When we got back and we started bringing you back around, she started going into distress.’

That part you knew. ‘None of mine or J.A.R.V.I.S’s simulations had shown any indication that she even could go into full stasis if you didn’t so, we had no idea what could happen. And...’ he paused for a moment, evidently distressed himself and you reached out and took his hand, quietly keeping an eye on the rising numbers on his smartwatch. ‘And what happened was, you went into cardiac arrest. Your heart stopped for two and a half minutes.’ 

Your mouth fell open. ‘You okay?’

‘Was I like, dead? I mean, _dead_ dead?’ 

Bruce was quick to reassure you. 

‘No, your heart stopped and you stopped breathing for a little while but you still had brain activity so, you weren’t technically dead.’

“Technically not dead” sounded a bit too much like “mostly dead” but you’d take it, all the same. 

‘But you were getting worried, weren’t you?’

Bruce gave a slight tilt of his head. 

‘Claire and I gave you CPR and you came back to us but I’m not going to lie, it was a long two and a half minutes.’ 

Pulling Bruce into a side hug, you didn’t give him the chance to object. 

‘I owe you guys big.’ 

That explained the reverence that Bucky seemed to have for Bruce and Claire and the exceptions that he had been prepared to make. 

‘You being here is enough,’ Bruce replied and you both managed to laugh at the teary turn that you had both taken. 

After a few minutes of catching breaths and drying eyes, he got back to what he was saying. ‘When I was on the run, I ended up in a lot of places, saw a lot of unbonded omegas and alphas about to become parents. Some of those places had very poor medical provisions, sometimes it didn’t end so well...and I’ve never seen anything like I saw in that med-bay. Bucky was a mess, I mean a the-entire-universe-is-ending kind of mess. By the time we had been giving you CPR for a while we had to start talking about an emergency C-section if the worst happened and even knowing that we could, that we would save her, he was...I don’t even have enough words for what he was. I’ve seen bonded mates have less extreme reactions. Then after, how he was talking, how he _was_...the guy I saw in there wasn’t some alpha just running on pheromones who would go on to say he didn’t want that person. That looked like an alpha in...’ 

You weren’t sure that you could bring yourself to think the word that Bruce himself had omitted, neither did you have any way to reconcile the last couple of conversations that had passed between you and Bucky with what he had told you. However, Bruce wasn’t one to exaggerate. If he was saying that was what he saw then that was what he saw. 

‘How...? I mean, he’s known me days...he can’t...?’

Bruce took you in for a moment, trying to judge your mood. 

‘Look, honey, at the end of the day it’s up to you guys and what you want. I didn’t mean to interfere -’

‘If he did feel that way, why would he say that he didn’t want me?’

Clearly deciding that, interfering or not, you couldn’t care less at this point, Bruce gave your question some serious thought. 

‘I don’t know.’

You didn't either.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovelies and a merry weekend unto you all!
> 
> In today's chapter there is: angst, unexplained illness, a little mortality facing and contemplating own death (I wouldn't quite go as far as suicidal but more like weariness and considering giving up, if that makes sense?), canon typical violence and descriptions of blood and bodies, forced drugging. Hydra are bell ends and that's all there is to it. Also, I know very little about Vienna so any mistakes my own. 
> 
> Much love x

_1 Year Ago - Vienna._

Barely able to pick up his own feet, Bucky shuffled along the cobbled back street.

With his right hand practically fused to his sternum against the excruciating and only worsening pain, he could feel the cold sweat soaking through his shirt. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he tried to catch the moisture that built there before it fell from the end of his nose, however, indulging in the motion proved to be not only fruitless but a waste of what little energy that he had left.

Every step he took seemed to add another anvil to the weight on his shoulders, his shaky, laboured attempts to push himself forward attracting attention from the few passers by who’s paths he happened to cross. None stopped to speak to him and he was glad. Hopefully, they would just assume he was some ailing drunk aimlessly wandering the dusky streets and with his staggering gait and increasingly cadaverous pallor, he didn’t need to try to play up to the illusion.

With the exhibit in the Heeresgeschichtliches Museum detailing Captain America’s daring and unsanctioned rescue of the One Hundred and Seventh it wasn’t impossible that someone would recognise him. He had avoided coming back to this pocket of European soil for that very reason but, apparently, the universe had a sick sense of humour. 

Bucky pulled his cap down as far over his face as he could without cutting out important lines of sight and hiked his jacket collar high around his drenched neck.

He flinched as the fabric brushed against his scent gland.

Daring to inspect it with his fingers even gently around the affected area, it was not only painfully tender but also inflamed. If what his research had revealed was correct then he was falling into end stage symptoms. 

God only knew how much longer he could hold out.

Not for the first time, Bucky found himself wondering if there was any purpose to fighting it at all, that perhaps to succumb to it in some far away and inaccessible place was simply for the best.

The memory of that body littered stairwell, the agonising view from that rooftop filled him with the will to carry on. Hydra had nearly managed to out maneuverer him once and having come so close to reclaiming him, they wouldn’t give up. No matter how far he ran, no matter how far flung or secluded the place where he managed to lay down his head and never get up again, if they found him it was all over.

Not even death was barrier enough to curtail what Hydra had planned for him.

So, he kept moving.

He would force one heavy foot in front of the other for as long as he had to if it could prevent that unthinkable end.

Leaning against the nearest wall, he managed to reach into his pocket and pull out the scrap of paper that had led him here. If his understanding of local geography was accurate then he was only around the corner from the doctor who had claimed to be able to treat him. It was black market, off the books but it wasn’t like he could just walk into the hospital even if they would have had the first clue what to do with him.

Steadying himself against every solid surface on his way, Bucky finally found the door he was looking for. 

It stood slightly ajar, a dim wisp of light spilling through the crack.

Not quite gone enough to overlook the years of military experience even before he fell off of that train, the ominous nature of the sight before him didn’t go unnoticed. Still, he had already come this far and if the only result to walking away was haunting at best then to proceed was his only option, logical or otherwise. 

The ghostly stealth that his former jailers had instilled in him was more than a little hindered but with great effort he managed to push open the door with nothing more than a low creak of its hinges. 

Bare floor boards were covered with mismatched rugs, the paint, sieged by rising damp, flaking from the plaster. The scent of mint and dahlias, that which the doctor had said that Bucky should recognise him by, was strong and slightly fetid from mixing so long with the musty air. Beneath it, however, was the tinge of the familiar, recognised always too well for Bucky’s liking. 

The scent of blood. 

For what was effectively a backstreet hackshop, that shouldn’t be so surprising. However, this had a tone of freshness to it that put Bucky immediately on edge. Scanning his immediate environment, he found nothing of note until he managed to raise his head. 

A spot of red. 

A falling drop. 

A thickening trickle. 

A growing pool. 

By the time his gaze reached the top of the stairs, Bucky knew that he didn’t need to see what was there, that his best course of action would have been to run as soon as he had laid eyes on that first spec of blood on threadbare carpet. With his brain too weary to react to what his instincts of experience were telling him, he met the man who could only be the doctor in his lifeless eyes. 

Muscle memory somehow managing to bypass his afflicted body, he swerved out of the doorway before the bullet reached him. 

Another whooshed past his head, missing him by barely an inch. 

Raising his left arm without a second to spare, he deflected another three. 

Forcing his legs to move was beyond any feeling of wading through molasses that he could recall, however, with the stakes higher than his rising adrenaline they were convinced into enough urgency to take off at a stilted run. 

Hearing more percussive ripples chase him down the narrow street, he could only hope that they missed. 

The buzz of pain in his left shoulder, a sensation specific to the synthetic nerve at the core of his vabranium arm demanded his awareness towards its cause. 

Caught between two plates of his forearm was not a bullet but a tranquiliser dart. Bucky yanked the dart out, wincing at the painful jolt that it caused. 

Well, at least he knew that whoever was shooting at him was an idiot. 

Running as fast as his staggering legs could carry him, he turned a corner hoping to find some sort of refuge, perhaps a dumpster that could mask his scent long enough to give them the slip. 

He immediately realised his mistake. 

Three figures clad back from head to toe enough even to cover their faces, barred his way. Their weapons were raised in professionally steady hands, the white skull headed octopus on their tac vests gleaming in the streetlights. 

The nearing clatter of boot steps behind him had his heart beat throbbing in his temples. After exerting himself even so little his vision was beginning to blur, making it difficult to count how many were not only around him but lining the high rooftops on both sides of him. 

He hadn't been running, he had been funnelled and he should have known better than to fall for it.

For the first time since he had come to his senses and left New York for good, Bucky felt himself truly panic. Had he been at his full strength, he wouldn’t have thought twice about whether he could obliterate the small army surrounding him, armed or not. Barely being able to focus on his enemy would have been a hinderance, however, with his strength failing him, his awareness crumbling and the gap between his brain and his greatest weapon growing bigger by the second, the odds were stacked unfavourably against him even if their arsenal was ill prepared for its assault on his constitution.

Bucky was a fish in a barrel.

‘Come quietly, солдат,’ the centre member of the group before him said as the rest closed in on Bucky’s position, ‘you're about to make history, again.’ 

‘I know...what your trying to...make,’ Bucky spat through his teeth at the faceless speaker, ‘and history...ain’t it.’

‘That’s a matter of perspective.’

Damn right it was and from his perspective there was much more than history on the line. 

Desperate to find it in him to resist from somewhere, it didn’t take much to summon the image of the face that was never far from the surface of his thoughts. With his resolve in tact he reserved his energy and he allowed the inner circle of agents - six in total - to tread closer, luring them in by the strings of their master’s hubris. 

Once they were within reaching distance, he struck. 

With his immediate course of action already played out in his mind’s eye, Bucky moved as though to clap his hands, catching the heads of two nearest agents in between. 

By the time their bodies hit the ground, he had taken out two more with the rifle that he had snatched from one of them as they fell. The poorly aimed darts thankfully managed to hit their targets, piercing both in the neck. Neither survived the injection which confirmed his assumption that if they thought that it had a chance of taking him down, it had to be lethal to the average human being. 

Darts seemed to come at him from all angles, however, there was only so much sense in a super-soldier wasting precious energy to avoid them. Bucky lost count of how many must have lodged in his back as he tried with increasingly sketchy precision to deter the attacks of the bodies that swarmed him. 

Those who found themselves at the mercy of his left hand, even as uncoordinated as it currently was still came off worse. However, those on his right were getting in more and more direct hits by the second as his reflexes slowed with the toll that his symptoms were taking on his body. 

Only this felt different.

The slackening of his muscles, the heaviness of his eyes, the way the world began to look like and impressionistic mural of itself felt at odds with the illness that he had been fighting these last two years. 

The sensation that beckoned him to fall to his knees and succumb was reminiscent of a memory that was descending into the static of his mind. 

Bucky had stayed with Steve the first time he had the flu after his mom died and had ended up catching it himself. Rummaging through cupboards in the dark, it was only after he had taken a hefty swig that he realised that the bottle in his hand was morphine rather than cough syrup.

The realisation that it may have in fact been his own hubris that had got the better of him was a terrifying one. 

He had failed.

Spectacularly.

And he wasn't the only one who would end up paying for it. 

Another barrage of darts found his shoulders, his right arm, his hyper-sensitive neck while the agents held position out of range of his sluggish swipes as though hunters might a sedated tiger.

Bucky couldn’t begin to count how many more darts he felt break his skin and no sooner had he regained the measure of his surroundings intent on fighting once more, he had forgotten it all over again.

When he felt his cheek meet cobble, he could barely recall his own name, the sounds and voices around him exiting his memory the moment they reached his ears. 

‘Move in,’ the clear leader barked, the order followed by hasty bootsteps and the prickle of a needle in the back of his right hand, ‘keep him fully medicated at all times.’

‘Understood,’ a second voice spoke with certainty but the third sounded confused, shaken even. 

‘He doesn’t look so good. Is that the drug?’

‘It shouldn’t be.’

‘His pulse is weak,’ the second voice spoke again, their tone considerably more concerned than before, ‘it’s like he’s at death’s door.’

‘Then get him back to base ASAP. I don’t need to remind you of the consequences if this mission fails.’ 


End file.
